Upon the Slate
by Awahili
Summary: She's not the same naïve girl from London, and he's no longer a Lord of time and space.  But together they're paving their way down the slow path, rediscovering wonders along the way.  A series of "firsts" in the life of Rose and her new new new Doctor.
1. First Kiss

And so begins my first mini-series. As my brain was wandering – as it's prone to do – I wondered about Rose and the duplicate Doctor's relationship. Every relationship experiences "firsts," and those Rose had already had some with the real Doctor, everything with the human Doctor would be brand new. So I decided to chronicle them. Enjoy.

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><p>FIRST KISS<p>

"_A kiss seals two souls for a moment in time." _ - Levende Waters

His lips still tingled from her kiss, and even as she broke away to watch the TARDIS vanish forever he couldn't form a coherent thought other than "do it again." But that underlying sense that had always been so attuned to Rose and her moods was now enhanced with human empathy, so he managed to shake himself free enough to walk over and take her hand. Her fingers closed around his in a vice-like grip, as if she was afraid he, too, would disappear into thin air. He gazed at her for a split second before she turned her head toward him, and his breath caught from the sheer emotion swirling in her eyes. How was it possible for one person to feel such turmoil and confliction and elation and relief and not collapse from the weight?

"What now?" she whispered, and his solitary heart broke at the worry in her tone. Her simple question was really anything but, and he found himself unable to give her a suitable reply. So he just held her hand, trying to convey through his actions that he was here and he wasn't going anywhere. After a few moments of pregnant silence she stepped around him and began walking toward her mother. He let her go reluctantly, trailing along behind her as she tried to make sense of the reality that had just been thrust upon her.

Jackie enveloped her daughter in a crushing hug and though Rose didn't cry, the Doctor could tell she was only barely maintaining her control. He stood quietly off to the side, completely out of his element in this new and strange world with a thousand questions whizzing through his mind. Did Rose even want him? Was that kiss just the result of years of pent up tension, triggered by his honest admission? Would he have to get a job? What was his name? Where would he live? Would Torchwood want to examine him? Was Jackie going to slap him for the actions of the other Doctor?

"Stop thinking for a minute," Rose mumbled from her mother's shoulder, and the Doctor blinked once before focusing on her. After several tense seconds, Rose let go of her mother and wrapped her arms around his neck. Despite her distress, he couldn't help but grin into her shoulder as he relaxed completely for the first time since he'd been created. He felt her chest hitch against his own and he realized she was finally starting to cry, finally letting go of all the emotions she had been keeping at bay for who knew how long. One of his hands moved to cradle her head, and the simple comforting gesture was all it took for Rose to lose whatever strains of control she was trying to maintain.

He sank to the sand with her, settling her in his lap as she wept into his suit jacket. Jackie looked torn between wanting to comfort her daughter and wanting to give her privacy. Finally, the Doctor made the decision for her and lifted his head from where he laid it against Rose's.

"Why don't you call Pete for a ride?" he spoke softly. "I've got her." The Tyler matron hesitated for only a moment more before setting off down the beach to make the call. The Doctor turned his full attention to the sobbing girl in his arms, whispering nonsensical words of comfort into her ear as she gulped for air and control. He was surprised to find his own tears mingling with hers as his emotions bubbled up to the surface. The enormity of the day's events were crashing down on both of them, and the Doctor knew in that moment that neither would be able to cope without the other. He was literally born to be hers, and she had sacrificed so much in search of something she hadn't even known existed. But they were together finally, and he vowed to the planets and stars that nothing would ever tear them apart again.

"Pete's coming to take us back to the mansion," he whispered when she finally calmed enough to take a breath. Her fingers played absently with the lapel of his jacket, and he forced himself not to think of how those fingers had felt so delightful fisted in the material, crushing them together desperately. His breath tickled her ear as his lips moved over her head, dropping every kiss his other self had denied him before. He felt her take another shuddering breath and relax more fully against him, her eyes drifting closed from sheer exhaustion. He scooted back until he could lean against a rather large rock, ignoring the dull ache in his muscles in favor of letting her rest.

"A car should be here soon," Jackie's soft voice startled him, and he barely managed to keep from jumping in fright. "Is she alright?"

"Completely knackered," he explained. "I think everything came down on her at once. She'll be better after a quick kip." Jackie took a step toward him as if to ensure her daughter's well-being, but one look at the Doctor's face checked her progress.

"She loves you, you know," the woman continued lightly.

"She loves him," he corrected.

"You are him, you daft alien." The hardness in her tone left no room for argument, but the slightest bit inside of him that was Donna Noble ignored it completely.

"I know that," he shot back just as tersely, "but I'm not sure she does. Not yet." His voice and expression softened as he looked down at the slumbering woman in his arms.

"She will," Jackie told him firmly, and he almost believed her. Almost.

"I hope so."

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><p>So I'm curious…what "firsts" have you experienced in your relationships? Or, if you haven't had any, which would you most wish to experience with a special someone? I already have quite a few of these mapped out, but as I said I'm curious about your thoughts. Let me know, and they might just make it into the series!<p> 


	2. First Apology

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. _That-Girl-Over-There_ made an excellent point and, after some deliberation, I decided to concede to it. So I changed it for the first chapter; I may or may not change it back for later chapters.

Also, thank you to _JinxSaw, JollyRoger1, _and _Ceeare_ for their awesome suggestions for "firsts."

This takes place roughly a week after the last one. It was originally entitled "First Hug" then I realized they actually sort of hugged in the last chapter. So phooey. But I love this one, so I came up with a different title. This is also the first of a "three-parter." The next two will continue this mini-story. Enjoy.

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><p>FIRST APOLOGY:<p>

"_Apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift." _– Margaret Lee Runbeck

His first few days in Pete's world were filled with tension, anxiety, and heartbreak. Even Jackie had commented on his melancholy, which prompted a sit down and twenty minute lecture on being human and needing to talk about his feelings. He then proceeded to tell her to mind her own business and tromped up the stairs to his room.

Rose's room was down the hall from his, but ever since their return it was either closed to him or empty. Pete and Jackie never said where she was, but more than once he had caught a glimpse of dirty blonde hair disappearing down a path on the grounds just out of shouting distance. Her isolation broke his heart, but he never gave up trying. So just like every night he stood outside her door, knocked softly twice, and waited.

There was no reply, but he knew she was in there. He could hear the delicate rustling of the bed sheets, the quiet breathing that probably meant she was sleeping, but he didn't dare enter. He was still coming to terms with what had happened, so he knew she must be struggling as well. He took a deep breath, laid his hand upon the door, and opened his mouth to say those three words he had whispered every night upon his arrival. But instead, his mind filled with other thoughts that came tumbling out unbidden.

"Rose, I'm not sure if you can hear me, or if you're ignoring me, but I do know that you love me. And I know that you feel scared and excited and guilty and selfish and happy and sad and all these other things at once. I know it because I feel them, too. Honestly, I have no idea how humans cope with only one heart; I feel as if mine is about to implode any moment. But, please Rose…don't shut me out. I love you. I love you and I'll say it a million times a day every day for the rest of our lives until you believe me. Until you believe that you don't have to feel scared and sad and guilty and selfish, because this is what he wanted. You and me, we could have a fantastic life, Rose; the life a Time Lord could not offer you. And I'm sorry if that seems like a consolation prize, because it was never meant to be that way. But I'm not going anywhere. I was made for you, and I'm staying with you…forever."

Silence answered him, and he forced back tears as he sighed heavily. With one last longing look at the closed door, he slipped his hand away and began walking back to his room. A noise reached his ears then, and before he could turn around he was hit full force by a sobbing Rose. His arms encircled her automatically, and he was hushing her gently even as she mumbled an apology over and over and over again.

He held her close, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go even a little bit. Rose didn't seem to mind, and he tightened his hold on her as her fingers gripped his white t-shirt desperately. In a moment of despair late last night, a horrible thought had crossed his mind. The Doctor had hugged Rose countless times, and he remembered each and every sigh she had made as she molded perfectly to him. But this body had never experienced it save for those few precious moments on the beach, and he had wondered if he'd ever get the chance again. He craved her body, her mind, her very soul with every fiber of his being, and now he held her like a lifeline in a world that was careening madly around them.

As her sobs quieted he let one of his hands drift up into her hair, cradling her head to his chest. He could feel the thump of his heart against her ear, and when her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly in relief he felt its pace increase.

"You're not," she murmured into his shirt, and he let his lips fall into her hair as he hummed in question. Her head lifted so she could look him in the eye, and the force of her emotions seemed to overwhelm even his own tumultuous feelings. "A consolation prize," she clarified. "You're not. You _are_ the Doctor, and he's you. You said so yourself – or he did, anyway. I just…" her eyes flickered down to his lips, then down his body before jumping back to his eyes. "So much has happened in the past few years, and I got so good at shoving everything to the side, focused only on getting back to you. And now that I'm back it just…all caught up to me at once, I guess."

"You know, your mother just cornered me and tried to tell me how important it was that I talk about how I feel about everything now that I'm human." A small glimmer of humor lit up her eyes for a moment, and he smiled softly. "I told her to bugger off, but now I think I know what she meant. I do need to talk about it, just not to her." Rose's hands moved from clenching the fabric of his shirt to circle his waist, and the Doctor took the opportunity to pull her fully against him.

"Sometimes, really early in the morning, I sneak out and go for a run. It felt good, you know, just to get away from everything. I didn't realize I was running _from _something."

"Rose," his voice was steady and low, and his face more serious than she'd ever seen it. "You never have to run from me. To me, for me, and – most importantly – _with_ me…but never from me."

"I know," she said ashamedly. "I know that now. I just…"

"Shh," he kissed her forehead tenderly and pulled her to him again. After the heart-stopping thought of never holding her again, he had vowed to commit her to memory the very next chance he got. "No more apologies. You don't ever have to apologize about how you feel. This is an adjustment for all of us; just please don't try to handle everything on your own." They were quiet for a few moments, reveling in their rediscovered closeness. After a few seconds, Rose lifted her head again.

"Back after I first got here, I found a place out on the grounds. It's not a breath-taking view or anything, but it's isolated and peaceful." Even tempered by his new humanity, the Doctor's intelligence was sufficient to take the hint.

"Why don't we pack some sandwiches and take a walk, then?" She stepped away from him and dashed back into her room, emerging an impressive twelve seconds later dressed in black track pants, a fitted pink t-shirt, and her shoes dangling from her fingers. He held out his hand wordlessly, grinning like a fool when her smaller fingers slipped between his. He didn't fool himself into thinking everything was going to be perfect, but he knew that as long as she was with him there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

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><p>Alright, there was some question as to whether I will incorporate the deleted scene from <em>Journey's End<em>. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, you seriously need to visit YouTube ASAP.) The answer is "I'm not sure." I thought about it, then dismissed it, and now I'm leaning back toward yes again. So if you'd like to throw in your two cents, you know what to do.


	3. First All Night Talk

Picks up right where "First Apology" leaves off…

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><p>FIRST ALL-NIGHT TALK<p>

"_You know you're in love when you don't want to fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."_ – Dr. Seuss

Rose led the way in the moonlight across dew-covered grass, her hand still firmly encased in the Doctor's. He kept quiet as they crept down a worn path, and in the cool evening air their breath fogged around them. At the fork in the path he waited for her gentle tug to direct him to one side or the other, but she merely trudged ahead and over the split tree trunk. She pushed aside hanging vines and the drooping leaves of the willow, careful to tread on the ground lightly.

After a few more minutes of pioneering through the brush, they came to a clearing illuminated by moonlight. She let go of his hand and stepped away from him, leaving him bereft and wondering as she settled down on a fallen trunk. Her normally vibrant complexion was washed white in the light of the nearly-full moon, and her hair cast about her shoulders ethereally. For several seconds he merely stood there taking her in, but when she glanced over her shoulder he started from his place and joined her on the log. He handed her a sandwich wordlessly, and they ate in silence as the night settled around them. Finally, when they were done, Rose took a deep breath and looked up at the moon.

"Every time I came here, I wished you were here with me. I thought of so many things to say to you, everything I promised myself I _would_ say if I ever got the chance." Her quiet confession meant the world to him, and he reached over to take her hand again. She looked down between them, turning his hand over in hers to trace the lines on his palm with tender fingers. He let her fiddle for a moment to collect her thoughts before lifting her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

"I'm here now," he said finally, slipping down to sit on the grass. She joined him then, leaning back into his arm stretched across the log, and laid her head on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

So she did. She told him of every sleepless night trying to dream of his face, every cry of desperation when the reality of her situation crashed over her. She had only barely managed to keep herself fed – though it was mostly Jackie's doing – and she had all but thrown herself into her work when whispers of a new technology surfaced. He listened to her tale with a breaking heart, silently cursing the multi-verses for putting her through such torment. He smiled as she spoke of her determination to return to her own world – to him – and how Jackie had railed against it at first. She'd eventually come around after she realized Rose was carrying with or without her blessing, and she'd even shuffled her own schedule around to make sure Rose had everything she needed at the office.

Rose had tears in her eyes as she recounted her failed travels, how she had met Donna in that otherworld and how she had seen his lifeless body being carted away. She had fought to fix everything, to make sure that Donna and the Doctor crossed paths, that he wasn't lonely and forgotten underneath the Thames. And when she had finally – _finally_ – landed in the right universe at the right time she had nearly exploded with joy. Her voice faded away as the last remnants of the unknown story left her lips, and the Doctor's memory filled in the rest. He remembered how weary and hardened she had appeared against his love-struck memory of her, and he had realized she was more beautiful than ever before. He couldn't rightly say without asking her, but he guessed she was in her mid to late twenties now – having spent so many lost years in her search for him.

Each was lost in thought for a while, silent in the darkness of the grove as they recalled the events that led them here. Davros, the metacrisis, the Daleks, 27 planets returned in the blink of an eye, and tearful goodbyes. It had seemed almost surreal at the time, but when they had finally stepped out onto the beach for the last time, he had known what was coming.

"I was angry," Rose said finally. "I'd spent so many years trying to get back, I was just…you have this really bad habit of making life-altering decisions for me." She poked him in the chest, and he let out a short, humorless laugh. "But then I realized what he – what _you_ – were offering. And I discovered that it was something I hadn't even known I wanted. All of a sudden, my anger became all these other emotions too, and I couldn't…I'm not sure I can actually name them all." He said nothing, but he did pull her closer and press a kiss to the side of her head.

"I was angry, too," he admitted. "I had all these wonderful memories and thoughts and ideas, and there I was being forced into isolation from absolutely everything I knew. Then I remembered Krop Tor." Her brow furrowed in confusion, and he gave her a charming smile. "Stuck with you? That's not so bad." She laughed then, and the sound was like music that filled his soul. "When I realized what he was offering me – that I finally had to chance to take the slow path and spend the rest of my life loving you – I almost couldn't believe it."

"What was it like?" she asked quietly, settling back against him. "You said you have all his memories, all his thoughts…those years after I was gone, what was it like?"

And so he took a deep breath to begin chronicling his painful journey without her. He told her of his first adventure after she'd gone, how he had been so broken and lost without her. From his first encounter with Donna to Martha and her oh-so-obvious crush to the second coming of his respite from loneliness, he spoke of journeys they should have had together.

He squeezed her hand tighter as he recalled the heart-stopping moments when Donna had uttered those two words that meant absolutely everything to him. Words from so long ago had crashed over him then, and he closed his eyes against the onslaught of universal clues that had passed him by. _She is returning_. Words that had seemed so cruel in Pompeii were a balm to his soul as he'd realized what it meant. And with just two words – the two words that had bound them together for an eternity – he had felt hope once again.

Rose's face split in a wide yawn, and her head settled back against his shoulder as he finished his narrative. He looked up, surprised to see the sky lighter for the coming dawn. Rose fiddled with a frayed string on his second-hand jeans and closed her eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six, I think," he said as his mind reflexively reached out to orient him in time. It was a struggle, but he was shocked to discover that it still seemed to work, albeit a little limitedly. "We should get back; your mother is probably worried. And you need some rest." His statement was punctuated with a yawn of his own, and she giggled into his chest.

"Human, remember? You need rest, too." He sighed heavily in resignation and pulled her to her feet as he stood. Arm in arm, they walked back toward the mansion feeling better than either had in a long time.

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><p>So I'm curious…what "firsts" have you experienced in your relationships? Or, if you haven't had any, which would you most wish to experience with a special someone? I already have quite a few of these mapped out, but as I said I'm curious about your thoughts. Let me know, and they might just make it into the series!<p> 


	4. First Morning

Alright, this chapter marks a "first" for this fic! First time I'm using a suggestion from a reviewer. So here you are _Ceeare_, this one's for you. It's a bit longer than the others, but I'm sure you don't mind.

Also, this is a continuation of the last chapter. Should be the last one so closely related…the rest should be a bit more spaced out on the timeline. Ta!

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><p>FIRST MORNING TOGETHER:<p>

"_When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love."_ – Marcus Aurelius

They had made it back into the house before the sun crested the hill, so Jackie and Pete were still sleeping, but there were a few staff members up and about to start the mansion for the day. Rose refused to let go of his arm as they shuffled up the stairs, and he didn't even question when she directed them to her room.

He watched with mild amusement as she kicked off her shoes and collapsed face first into the four-poster bed, her words muffled by the mounds of pillows around her. After a few seconds of easy silence, she turned her head slightly and tried again.

"Shut the door." He complied immediately, suddenly rather nervous as the simple piece of wood isolated them from the rest of the household. He scuffed his red Chucks on the carpet idly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets for fear of fidgeting. He let himself gaze around the room, taking in the last refuge of Rose Tyler against a world that wasn't her own.

It was almost Spartan in décor, which surprised him greatly. She had always been an avid collector of knick knacks and various paraphernalia that had seemingly seeped out of her own room on the TARDIS and into his carefully constructed life. He smiled at the memory of finding her jacket strewn across a couch in the media room, or her favorite mug sitting unwashed in the sink. But looking around now, he could barely guess anyone actually lived in this room. The dresser was bare of any personal belongings, the wardrobe shut and dusty. Only the bed looked lived-in, evidenced by the half-slumbering girl occupying it.

He approached her quietly, noting the steady rise and fall of her back as she slept. The sunlight was creeping up the carpet, and he quickly moved to the window to draw the curtains closed. Now cast in relative darkness, he moved back to the bedside and wondered what to do next.

"Shoes," came a mumbled reply to his thought, and he fumbled with his trainers as Rose rolled to one side of the bed. Now clad in only old jeans and a white t-shirt, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. "Not gonna bite," Rose murmured, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. He settled down on his side facing her, his eyes raking over her form as she breathed deeply. Her eyes opened unexpectedly, and her grin at catching him out nearly blinded him in the darkness.

Deciding to ignore the fluttering in his chest (and really, was it _supposed _to beat that quickly?), he reached out to slip his arm around her waist and pull her against him. If she was surprised by his bold move she didn't show it, but he silently cursed his new humanity. How was he supposed to control these urges? She didn't seem to mind, he noticed, as she snuggled further into his embrace. With a contented sigh she drifted away, leaving him with his spiraling thoughts.

Being human, he surmised, was a lot harder than they made it look. One heart, for instance, wasn't nearly enough to supply every part of his body with enough blood to function properly. He felt his toes tingling with a dull ache from their walk, and he could already feel the muscles in his legs tightening. His head swam with thoughts and images, and he wondered idly if the metacrisis hadn't altered more than just his physiology.

A pang of fear went through him at the thought of losing and of his hard-earned and wondrous knowledge, and he frantically began to chronicle each and every adventure he'd ever had. Did his humanity extend to a dulled intelligence as well, or would he retain the Time Lord mind Donna had proclaimed his "best part." He thought of 10,000 B.C. and his dear Susan, then of meeting the Daleks and the Cybermen. Faces, planets, and peoples flashed through his mind, and with each recollection the fear in his heart was lessened. Sometime around The Crusade he lost consciousness, unaware of the soft footfalls of Pete and Jackie rising for the day.

When he opened his eyes again, the light streaming through the closed curtain was nearly the same as when he'd closed them, and he wondered if a little more of his Time Lord biology had made it through the metacrisis. Rose still slept deeply next to him, and he closed his eyes to test out his rediscovered temporal capabilities.

_Half eight_, he noted happily, wondering out he could feel so refreshed after only two hours of sleep. He nudged the sleeping form next to him, eager to share this newest revelation with her.

"Wazzit?" her eyes blinked open blearily and tried to focus on his grin.

"I'm still me!" he answered happily, and she had to take a moment to register his words.

"Okay…"

"No, I mean, it's only been a couple of hours and I feel completely refreshed! I think there's more Time Lord in me than I originally calculated." Rose rolled over and glanced at her clock, groaning in realization.

"Oh my God…"

"I know, and I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have woken you after only two hours. But I just got so excited and I couldn't contain myself." Rose rolled to her feet and stretched, and his face fell. "Really, Rose, I'm sorry for waking you. You need to lie down and get some rest." She dropped her hands and stared at him warily.

"Doctor, I'm not sure how to tell you this but…" she took in his face alight with joy and kicked herself for crushing his hope, "…it hasn't been two hours. It's been twenty six." His mouth fell agape in disbelief even as his temporal sense confirmed her statement; he had slept for an entire day.

"How is that even possible?"

"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I haven't really slept well since we got back." Her eyes dropped to the duvet, and he reached out for her hand instinctually. She squeezed back, finding the strength in him to look back up. "Anyway, I figure we were both so exhausted from that and staying up all night…" He dropped her hand and slid off the opposite side of the bed. She could tell from his posture that he was agitated, and she wondered what was bothering him.

"Twenty six hours, though," he exclaimed loudly before holding his hand out in front of him. "The last time I was unconscious for that long I was in a _coma!" _ She moved quickly around the bed to try and intercept the oncoming breakdown.

"Hey, it's alright," she soothed, but he stormed away from her.

"These last few days I've been so caught up in whether or not you were even going to talk to me again that I forgot that I'm _human! _I forgot, Rose! I don't forget things. Well, there was that one time...okay, two times, but the second time wasn't in any way my fault. I mean, how is one supposed to concentrate when being nearly stampeded by a wild herd of - _never mind_! Just look at me!" He was bounding around the room now in frustration, and Rose tried futilely to get him to just stand still.

"Doctor -"

"My muscles are sore, my sinuses are actually a little clogged, I smell," he sniffed himself to emphasize his point, ran his hand through his hair, and continued his list of grievances. "My hair is actually flaking, and _what_ am I excreting!" Afraid of having to deal with a hyperventilating half-Time Lord, Rose moved swiftly to his side and grasped both of his hands firmly.

"Hush!" she commanded, using the same tone she often utilized at Torchwood. It worked like a charm as he stilled immediately, taking deep breaths even as his eyes searched around frantically. Rose freed one of his hands to lay hers on the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "It's alright. It'll be an adjustment, but you can do this."

"Can I? I mean, I'm still the same man, but then again I'm not. How much of Donna seeped in? Oh I hope I didn't inherit her snark." Rose raised one delicate eyebrow and he shook his head. "Alright, so I guess I've still got a gob. But who am I now?" Releasing his other hand, Rose framed his face with her hands and forced him to look at her. When he did finally lock his eyes on hers, she raised herself up and kissed him. He didn't respond at first, his mind occupied with disjointed, out of control thoughts. After a few seconds, though, they all seemed to float away and all that was left was Rose. His hands gripped her hips like a lifeline and he responded eagerly to her ministrations.

She could feel his desperation and need in the kiss, and she poured as much reassurance and love as she could muster into it. After a while he seemed to calm, and she slowly pulled away to gauge his status. His eyes were still closed, as if he was trying to regain some control, and she laid her head against his chest. The reverberating sound of one strong heartbeat met her, and she reveled in the gift that had been given to her. How could she have been so selfish these last few days? She was grieving the loss of someone who wasn't really gone while he was having the ultimate identity crisis.

"Alright?" she whispered finally, and his arms came around her.

"I think so," he breathed. "I…I don't know how to cope with this." Her hand caressed his arm from shoulder to fingers before she grasped them firmly.

"One day at a time, I imagine," she answered, remembering something her mother had said when she'd asked a similar question long ago. He stepped back to look at her fully. Sentimental thoughts swirled through his head, and he cursed Donna for watching so many romance films in her youth (he was fairly certain he had never been _that_ soppy). He took a deep breath and shook his head, unable to find the right words to convey just how much she meant to him.

"You were right, though," Rose said after a moment. "You do smell." With a teasing smile she shoved him back, fanning the air in front of him.

"Oi!" he cried with indignation, wincing even as the foreign sound came out of his mouth. "I don't exactly have a full wardrobe at the ready. Pete gave me this old pair of jeans and a couple undershirts, and other than the suit that's literally all I own." He realized his mistake almost immediately, and his eyes widened comically as her face split into a grin. "No. No, no, no, no, no."

"Oh yes," she grabbed his hand and dragged him bodily toward the door. "Today, we're going shopping."

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><p>Okay, so the more I think and deliberate and read your wonderful reviews, the more I feel like including the consequences of the deleted scene from <em>Journey's End<em>. Don't expect it to be too focused just yet, probably just mentions here and there. It takes time to grow a TARDIS after all. But this list of "firsts" will most definitely include "first trip" and "first planet" among others. As always, your suggestions are appreciated! Ta.


	5. First Lesson

Okay, so here's a light, fluffier one to give us a break from all the heavy, emotional stuff. Enjoy.

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><p>FIRST LESSON:<p>

"_I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught._" – Winston Churchill

"I am certain I knew how to do this at some point in my 900 years of life." The Doctor stared angrily at the steering column, trying hard not to turn his frustration on the giggling form just left of him. He pressed his foot down on the brake pedal and gripped the shifter with white knuckles.

"Alright, just…ease it out, yeah?" He glared at her, ignoring the small blush on her cheeks that sent his thoughts spiraling in a direction that had nothing to do with their current situation. He was new to the whole human experience, but he was fairly certain he was not supposed to be that preoccupied by her every moment of every day.

"Pole!" Rose's terrified cry snapped him out of his thoughts, and he slammed his foot down, jerking the car forward with the abruptness of the stop. Rose had to hold out an arm to keep her from slamming into the dash, and when she pulled it away he could see the slight tremble in her fingers.

"Maybe you should drive," he said quickly, reaching for his belt. She laid her hand over his, effectively trapping it on the buckle.

"No, you need to learn how to drive."

"I can't make it five feet without losing concentration," he sank back into the seat with a sigh of resignation. She moved her hand from his side to his shoulder, squeezing in comfort.

"Not enough dials, levers, and buttons?" she joked, hoping to elicit even a small smile. He glanced sidelong at her and couldn't fight the upward twitch of his lips as he imagined the dashboard covered in a plethora of TARDIS controls.

"That's it," he accepted her excuse and elaborated. "You think Pete would mind a few modifications?"

"Hey, this is my car," Rose shot back, pushing him lightly. "Besides, how would you explain the spatial location input or the time rotor handbrake to a bobby?" His face lit up at the mention of his dearly-missed ship, and a proud smile stretched across his face.

"You remember!"

"Of course I remember," she settled back in her seat. "You taught me how to fly the TARDIS, now it's my turn. Trust me, you're doing much better than I did."

"Oh I don't know," he shot her a mirthful grin, "you are rather clever, after all."

"As are you," she returned. "Now try again." He looked through the windscreen at the empty parking lot and very slowly eased his foot from the brake.

With both hands on the wheel and Rose's gentle commands in his ear, he was able to navigate the expanse with relatively few hiccups. He even managed to pull the compact into a parking space with no trouble (after two aborted attempts).

"Am I done?" The pleading look on his face was so adorably hopeful that Rose couldn't help but burst out in laughter. His lower lip jutted out slightly at her reaction, and he crossed his arms over his chest indignantly.

"Sorry," she regained control and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Sorry, you were just…usually kids can't wait to learn how to drive. I remember wanting to drive _everywhere_ when my Mum taught me. 'Course, I ended up wrecking the car and Mum couldn't afford to replace it so we never did get a new one." He rolled his eyes at the end of her story and scoffed.

"Oh thanks, that really helps my confidence."

"I'm not saying that will happen to you. Mind, with your previous record…"

"Oi!" He shoved her shoulder playfully, unaware that his foot was slipping from the brake pedal. When the car jerked forward unexpectedly he gripped the steering wheel tightly and reapplied pressure to the brake. Rose tried to stifle her giggles but was mostly unsuccessful after seeing the slightly panicked look on his face.

"Okay, put it in park. That's enough for one day. We'll save parallel parking for another day, yeah?" He happily shifted the car into park and very nearly jumped out of the driver's seat. He met Rose around the front of the car and, acting on one of those insane urges he just couldn't seem to control, he gripped her hips and kissed her deeply. Before she could even think about responding he had her pressed into the hood of the car, his lips trailing a hot path down her neck.

Her deep, guttural moan brought him back to his senses, and he jumped away from her. They were both breathing deeply, and his eyes were dark and wild as he tried to regain an ounce of control. She eased herself back to a standing position, only mildly surprised to find her legs had half turned to jelly in the last few moments.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, covering his eyes with one hand. "I…I don't know what came over me." Rose bit back a lewd response and tried to focus on the fact that he was genuinely upset.

"Hey," she had to swallow once before the word would come out of her throat, but it gave her enough time to step up to him and pull his hand away from his face. His eyes were still impossibly dark, and she shivered under his gaze. "We should get home," she said finally. "Mum'll be waiting for us for dinner." He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and stepped around her. Rose took a deep breath to calm herself before sliding into the driver's seat.

The Doctor was staring out the passenger window, so she couldn't read his expression, but she could see the tension in his shoulders and neck. She had thought he'd gotten over most of the shock of being human, but now it seemed like every little thing that crept up on him sent him over the edge again. She shook her head, trying to clear it of any thoughts that didn't involve getting them home safely.

Silence reigned in the vehicle as she maneuvered into evening traffic. He was still lost in thought, and Rose refused to say anything for fear of setting him off again. She forced herself to remain quiet to keep from blurting about how she enjoyed his little bouts of abandon, how she often dreamed and fantasized about being with him and finally crossing that last boundary between them.

"I want to take you on a date."

His voice startled her, and she jerked a bit in her seat as she completed the last turn onto the grounds. Though her eyes remained on the road ahead, she could see in the corner of her eye as he turned toward her.

"Okay." She patted herself on the back for keeping the quiver out of her voice; it was such a straightforward request and so like the Doctor that she had to keep from laughing. "When?" It was surreal, really, and she tried to focus on the winding road that led to the mansion rather than the nearly irresistible man sitting next to her.

"Not sure," he turned back toward the window, gazing wistfully at the setting sun. "I'll let you know." And that was the end of it. He didn't elaborate and she didn't question, but she knew for certain that everything between them was about to change.


	6. First Date Part 1

I wrote this, then I went back and added to it. Then again. So this is a bit longer than other chapters. But I don't think you mind, do you?

* * *

><p>FIRST DATE PART 1:<p>

"_Love is, above all, a gift of one's self." – _Jean Anouilh

Weeks passed, and he never mentioned their date again. At first she had dropped not-so-subtle hints, but each time she did he was either completely oblivious (purposefully or not, she could never tell) or he brushed it off with a wave and quick ramble about whatever humanism had overcome him lately.

He had mostly adjusted to being human, and his "freak outs" were few and far between now. Rose found most of them humorous and adorable, but every now and then she could see a dark look in his eye that required a bit more intervention on her part. These moments often resulted in her dragging him to "their spot" between the divergence in the path and talking it out with him. Even Jackie seemed to be able to sense these moods at times, and had once called Rose home from work to handle a rather frantic Doctor when a quick cup of tea wasn't enough.

Rose broke herself from her retrospection and shut down her computer; she wasn't getting anything else done at work today. She waved goodbye to the evening security just coming on shift and climbed into the driver's seat of her compact. She smiled fondly as she recalled the almost weekly driving lessons with the Doctor, gazing at the two spots on her steering wheel rubbed almost bare from his firm grip. Her drive home was relatively peaceful, though she'd had to maneuver through a particularly thick throng of reporters outside the main gate, all gathered to try and obtain the latest scoop on an alien visitation. She parked next to Pete's Mercedes and hopped out, tossing a friendly wave at the porter as he pulled the door open for her.

"Rose!" Tony toddled up to her, his right hand coated in a substance Rose hoped was nothing more than saliva. She grabbed the tail of his shirt and wiped his hand clean before hoisting him up onto her hip. Jackie rounded the corner frantically, only relaxing when she saw her son in Rose's arms.

"I swear, he's getting more like you every day," Jackie frowned. "Always running off." Rose grinned at her mother and kissed her cheek before following her to the living area. The Doctor was the picture of relaxation on the sofa, pretending to pay attention to the match on the television. Pete and a man Rose thought she recognized from Torchwood were on the edge of their chairs, cheering at the screen.

"Who's winning?" she asked, setting her brother on the floor as he tried to squirm toward Pete. The Doctor was the only one who looked up, smiling at her as she sat next to him. She glanced down to his side, eyeing the notebook that seemed to be ever-present with him lately. She'd asked about it once but he'd merely shrugged her off, telling her he was chronicling his daily experiences of being human.

"Peaches or apples?" he whispered to her, and she barely glanced over as she answered.

"Apples."

It had started some weeks ago; he would come up to her and ask her a seemingly random question (black or white? dogs or cats? dawn or dusk? water or wind?). When she answered him (black, dogs, dusk, water), he would open his journal and scribble it down as if it were the most important piece of information in the universe. At first she had tried to ask him what it was about, and when that didn't work she resorted to trying for a sneak peek into the notebook. Unfortunately, he seemed to carry it around with him everywhere and Rose was forced to endure the seemingly endless supply of questions.

This time, however, he grinned widely at her answer and hopped to his feet, gripping his notebook in one hand and offering her the other. Pete and the man Rose finally identified as Russell Gaines didn't pay him any attention, but as the Doctor grabbed her hand and hauled Rose to her feet Jackie smiled at them. Rose let him pull her out of the room and down the hall to the small study Pete had set aside for him.

Once the door closed behind her he was upon her, pressing his larger form into hers as he kissed her senseless. She responded immediately, gripping his forearms in an attempt to get him as close as possible. When he pulled away she didn't let go, but instead tugged him against her fully. He laid his head on the door next to hers as they fought to catch their breath.

"Hello," she whispered, feeling his smile stretch his cheeks against hers.

"Hello," he breathed against her skin. He pulled back to look in her eyes, as if searching for more answers in their depths, before stepping away from her. Wordlessly, he grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the small leather sofa that sat against the far wall. When she sat down, he thrust the notebook into her hands and perched next to her nervously.

"Doctor, what –?"

"Just open it," he told her quickly. She ran her fingers over the hard binding for a moment before flipping it open. His scrawl was tiny and messy, and she had to lift it up a little to make out some of the words.

The first page was filled with what seemed like jumbled thoughts and random sentences. As she deciphered his script, she realized he had indeed chronicled his first days on the first few pages, including each and every new "humanism" he'd discovered along the way. As she skimmed the passages she couldn't help but giggle at a few of them, remembering each delightful discovery or horrific encounter.

She turned to the next few pages, acutely aware of his hands wringing nervously beside her. Without taking her eyes from his notebook she reached one hand over to still his, trying to calm him even as she focused on something so obviously important to him. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she read, wondering what his disjointed ramblings meant.

"What –?" He opened his hands and enveloped hers, holding onto her tightly as he answered the unspoken question.

"I needed to figure out what to do. I mean, who I am, where I'm from, what I do…I've never had to think about all that before. Usually it's just pop in, save the world, then pop back out. No muss, no fuss. But now…I have an entire lifetime to live and I just…had to sort it out."

She took in the lengthy list of names he'd obviously thought of and discarded. Some were scratched through rather thoroughly, others had question marks next to them. Another page held quick jots of childhood or little bits of the past that Rose had never really considered before. She could recall rather vividly the home she grew up in and, with some thought, the name of some of her teachers. Childhood friends, hangouts, memories were all stored in her mind for easy recall. But the Doctor had to fabricate everything from scratch; he had to literally create an entire person out of thin air.

"Have you decided on anything?" she asked him finally, looking up from the book at his face.

"No," he shook his head softly. "I…I've never really had to consider any of this before and I figured – well, since you've been human your whole life and whatnot – that you could, sort of, help me out. On the decisions. On who I am." She shut the book quickly and turned to face him.

"You're the Doctor," she reassured him. "If you want to call yourself Clifford I don't care because, to me, you'll always be the Doctor." He grinned at her that great, brilliant smile of his and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Clifford?" he returned cheekily. "Do I come off as a Clifford?" She laughed and shook her head.

"Nope," she replied in kind, with just a hint of a smile, "but I always did think John suited you." He wrinkled his nose in thought, his eyes darting down to the book in her lap.

"John?" He knew for a fact that name wasn't in the book; he had left it off for a reason. "I thought…well, I had _assumed_, anyway, that you wouldn't…that is, that it would be…bugger." He ran a hand through his hair and sank back into the cushions. She followed him, tucking herself into her side easily as his arm slid around her shoulders.

"You thought it would remind me too much of him?" she finished for him, and he nodded. "Well, yeah, but you're forgetting something." She lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes, her own gaze intense and focused; he would have no doubt about her next words. "You _are _him."

"Yes," he agreed with a nod of his head, "and no. I mean, when I was born I was him; same thoughts, same memories, same everything." She smiled as she remembered his words to her on the beach. "But every day I live, I have my own experiences and the man I am and the man he is diverge just a little more." She could tell by his tone that he was worried – afraid that if he wasn't the Doctor, she wouldn't want him to stay. She decided it was time to set him straight. Shifting a little in her seat, she turned her body to face him more fully.

"I love you," she said firmly, and from the look on his face she wondered if he'd been having doubts. "Before you came along, I was just a no-name teenager working a dead end job with no hope of a future that meant anything. You came and took me away from all of that, and I loved you for it." Her hand came up to frame his face, and he leaned into her touch slightly, lightly caressing the skin of her palm with his lips.

"Through all of our adventures and travels, you opened my eyes to an entire universe and you changed me…you made me _better_." She threw his own words back at him, and she could see the beginnings of tears fill his eyes. "You showed me remorse, compassion, regret, joy, and I realized I loved you more than I had ever loved anyone. Being here, away from you, those were the worst years of my life." She had told him as much before during their first long talk in the clearing, but hearing the pain in her voice again made his heart hurt. His hand came up to mirror her position, and she smiled into his palm as he cradled her face lovingly.

"Mine too," he whispered. "I was lost without you." They shared a moment that needed no words, but Rose wasn't done with her speech yet. She wanted to make sure that he had no doubts about her feelings for him – _her_ Doctor.

"These past few weeks have been so surreal, and some mornings I still wake up afraid that it was all a dream. But then I'll come downstairs and see you sitting at the breakfast table with Mum, or playing in the floor with Tony, or talking quietly in the corner with Pete, and it all falls into place again. I love the Doctor – I always will," she said with no guilt in her voice, and his face held no trace of anger. "But somewhere along this slow path I fell in love with you – not just because of the man you were, but because of the man you've become."

He let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, and Rose swore she saw tears spilling over his cheeks as he leaned forward quickly to capture her mouth in another searing kiss. She let him push her backwards, shifting so that he was lying almost fully on her as their passions took over. With one arm supporting his weight, he let the other travel the length of her body to rest on the smooth expanse of skin exposed at her midriff. Her own hands were wandering up his arms, over his shoulders, and down, pulling and gripping his body to mold against hers seamlessly.

When his hand slipped beneath her blouse, she gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Tongues explored, and she gave as good as she got as his fingers danced along her skin, shooting an intense heat from her head to her toes. Only when her need for oxygen overwhelmed her need for him did she pull away, breathing heavily and gripping his shoulders tightly.

"What was that for?" she whispered, still holding him so close her breath danced across his lips. His ever-bright eyes were dark and swimming with some unnamed emotion that sent her heart racing.

"I just…" he took a deep breath and she felt her own chest expand with it, "I just reacted. I don't know. Lately, ever since the metacrisis, I've been having these…_urges_. They're getting impossible to control." She smiled secretively, that little upward curve of her lips that told him this was another one of those human things he was just going to have to get used to.

"They're called hormones, Doctor," she replied in a low, husky tone. He frowned at her words and gave her a teasing look that sent a shiver of delight through her.

"I know what hormones are, cheeky girl, I just…" His thumb caressed the curve of her hip absently, and she trembled again. He glanced down at the pale, delicate skin around her navel, resisting the temptation to trace the path of his fingers with his mouth. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his initial goal, and his hand fumbled for the discarded notebook.

Wordlessly they shifted until they were lying side by side, and he opened the book to his last few entries. Reaching over her, he swiped a pen from the floor and added her last answer - apples - with a flourish before handing the notebook back to her. She traced the answers to each question he'd asked the last few weeks, wondering if and how they were interconnected.

"What are these for?" She had asked him before, of course, but he'd merely waved her off and continued asking seemingly nonsensical things despite her unsatisfied curiosity. Now, however, he gripped the edges of the notebook and smiled.

"This," he said proudly, "was our first date."

"What do you mean?" She had no doubt about the sincerity in his tone, but the Doctor had always seen things a little differently than everyone else. She often followed his rather odd way of thinking, but this time he would have to explain his madness.

"Well, I don't know a lot about first dates, not having had many of them myself. Well, I have had some, but most were quite by accident. Actually, there was this one time when I was on the fourth moon of –"

"Doctor," she admonished fondly, and he stopped rambling.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, all the research I did says that first dates are supposed to be about getting to know the person, deciding on whether to have a future with this person or not, and I figured that, well, after your little speech that second one is a pretty moot point. I'm not sure you could drive me off with a pry bar now." She smiled and craned her neck to kiss the exposed skin of his neck, delight coursing through her as he shuddered at her touch.

"_Anyway_," he cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to control himself, "we already know quite a lot about each other. Then I got to thinking, how much do I _really_ know about Rose? And I realized that yeah, I know your favorite food is chips and your favorite color is pink and all those little things that only really good friends and partners know. But there were some things I didn't know, and so I made a list of every possible thing I may or may not need to know to spend the rest of my life with you."

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds trying to process everything he'd said, and her eyes darted from the notebook to his face and back again. Her fingers trailed over the answers she'd given him, and a picture began to form in her head.

"So this is…"

"Our life," he answered quietly. "A small house by the lake, dogs barking in the backyard, sitting on the porch watching the sunset. Very, _very_, domestic."

"Can you handle that?" She knew the answer – could feel it in every touch, every kiss – but hearing him say it was suddenly the most important thing in the world. He shut the book and leaned over her again, stifling any further comments with his lips on hers. After a few seconds he pulled away, brushing feather-light kisses to her jaw and cheek. His mouth descended to her ear, and he whispered one word that filled her with boundless joy.

"_Forever._"


	7. First Date Part 2

FIRST DATE PART 2:

_"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over."_ - Jewel

"Red or white?" The Doctor's voice floated down the hall, and Rose looked up from her study of the multitude of dresses in front of her to smile. Ever since he had surprised her with their "first date," things had been progressing rather easily between them. Of course, the romantic tension was building like steam behind a plug and she often wondered which one of them would break first. Secretly, she bet it would be him.

"Red or white?" she repeated, wondering if he was going to continue asking her questions despite having already showed her his notebook. He entered her room with two pairs of shoes hanging from each hand, and she glared at the Chucks firmly. "No."

"But Rose..." he whined, looking absolutely adorable in his white dress shirt and black trousers. She had given him his dues on a rather unique and unforgettable first date, but she had been looking forward to going out to dinner with him for weeks and had all but begged Pete to get them reservations at a very posh restaurant in the West End. Now the Doctor was trying to dress for the occasion, but she drew the line at his choice of footwear.

"No, you are not wearing your trainers with that suit." He pouted and sat heavily on the edge of her bed.

"What if we have to run?" She hid a smile by turning back to her own wardrobe.

"It's dinner and dancing; I don't think we'll be doing much running." She felt him stand and step up behind her, and she cursed her own body's reaction to his proximity. She did her best not to shiver as the heat rolling from his body hit hers, but she could do nothing about the flush that crept up the back of her neck. His hands fell to her shoulders, brushing her hair to one side as he dropped a kiss to the curve of her shoulder.

"I think you've forgotten how jeopardy-friendly you are," he teased lightly, letting his hot breath ghost across her sensitive skin. She closed her eyes at his touch and leaned back, sighing softly as he supported her body against his own. They stayed like that for a moment, content to just hold and be held in the silence of the manor. Finally, he reached over her and selected a sleek, midnight blue dress. He kissed her cheek once more and grabbed his trainers before dashing from the room.

"Dinner's in less than two hours!" he called over his shoulder, and she didn't miss the smug grin that was stretched across his face.

Pete's connections came through with flying colors as the Doctor opened the front door to a high class restaurant. Rose felt more than a little self-conscious stepping into the chandelier-covered foyer. Deep marble lined the walls and floor, and her dark heels clicked loudly as the Doctor led them to the hostess. Sensing her discomfort, he reached over for her hand as the woman behind the podium smiled brightly.

"Good evening," she greeted easily. "May I have your name?"

"John Smith," the Doctor answered just as smoothly, squeezing Rose's hand when he felt her fingers tighten ever so slightly.

"Yes, of course, welcome Dr. Smith and Ms. Tyler. If you will follow me, I'll show you to your seats." Rose bit back a chuckle as the woman grabbed two menus and began gliding through the maze of tables. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and Rose was suddenly very aware of her upbringing in a middle-class complex with a single mother and a dead-end job.

"Stop it Rose, you look beautiful," the Doctor leaned in and whispered quietly, but it was enough to snap her out of her thoughts. She smiled at him gratefully as he pulled out her chair, seating her before taking his own. The hostess smiled graciously once more before leaving them alone, and the Doctor looked around with a raised eyebrow.

"Not too bad, Pete," he praised. "What do you think?" He looked over the table at her hesitant expression and wondered how she could believe for one second that she didn't belong here. The dress he'd picked out was perfect, hugging her in all the right places, and one of the house-staff had very nearly demanded to be allowed to fix Rose's hair. He made a mental note to thank her tomorrow; Rose's normally shoulder length hair had been pulled up into an elegant up-do, with small wisps hanging to frame her face on either side. Jackie had let her borrow earrings and a necklace, and the deep blue stones glimmered in the soft light. She looked nothing short of royalty mingling among the people, and he offered her a reassuring smile when she looked across the table at him.

"It's a bit posh, don't you think?" He laughed softly and reached over for her hand.

"Remember Gerveria, that ball that we stumbled into? We had to pretend that jeans and a t-shirt was actually formal wear for humans." She laughed with him and relaxed a little.

"As I recall, they were mostly looking at your suit," she shot back.

"How was I supposed to know that brown was the color of royalty on Gervaria?" She laughed harder at the memory of everyone bowing and kneeling everywhere they went, and he faked an offended expression. A young man approached their table with a two glasses of water and a polite smile, and they were forced to rein in their amusement.

"Good evening, my name is Tanner and I have the pleasure of serving you this evening. Have you selected anything from the menu, or would you like a few more minutes?" Rose looked down at the menu and frowned.

"A few more moments, please," she answered, and Tanner gave a short nod of his head, set the water on the table, and moved away swiftly. "I have no idea what to order," she chuckled, noting the rather highly priced entrees.

"Whatever you want," he assured her. "Pete rather insisted on giving me a 'loan.'" He crooked the first two fingers of each hand in mimic of Pete's gesture. "I'm not quite sure what that means."

"It means you don't have to pay him back," Rose explained. "He did the same thing when I first got here."

"Well, you're family...sort of. Well, he's your step-dad at any rate now. How did you explain that by the way? That must have been a bit awkward..." Rose laid her hand over his to still his rambling, and his mouth closed rather comically.

"There are a few people at Torchwood who know the real story - Jake, for one. But we had to make up this whole big story about how I had been kidnapped as a child, and after twenty-five years I finally found my way home." She made a face that told him she wasn't too pleased with the whole thing, but there was little choice in the matter.

"Pete had to pull some strings and get some fake newspapers from way back printed up in case anyone went snooping. It's amazing what you can make people believe with the right connections. There are people who swear they remember the whole thing from twenty-five years ago." She shook her head and took a sip of water as he thought about the story.

"Pretty clever," he admitted. "And I suppose it's a plausible enough explanation for Jackie's sudden change of behavior. How is she doing with all this?"

"Oh, Mum's like a fish in water. There were some hiccups early on, but they've got it mostly sorted. They had nasty rows at first, but once they found out Mum was pregnant with Tony it was like the final piece slid into place." The Doctor nodded, still not quite believing he was sitting at a formal dinner asking Rose about her family. Jackie had made it pretty clear that he was to consider the manor home as well, but he couldn't help but feel like an outsider sometimes when the family began laughing and reminiscing over dinner.

Tanner returned and took their orders, leaving the couple in a comfortable silence. Rose looked at the people around them, some obvious high society goers and others merely dressed up to fit in. It wasn't hard to spot the imposters; they were glancing around almost as much as Rose was. The Doctor's hand was warm on hers, and his gentle squeeze brought her thoughts back to her dinner companion.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do?" Her question seemed to catch him off guard, and she laughed at the bewildered expression on his face. "I mean, you picked a name obviously, but have you decided on a job?" He shrugged one shoulder and drew a bit of the wine he'd ordered into his mouth.

"Pete offered me a position," he said, but his tone told her exactly how much he thought of it. Torchwood, in any universe or incarnation, was no place for the Doctor.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to just pick your brain whenever he can," she assured him. "But I'm not sure that it's the right fit. Got any other ideas?" He faltered then, and she could tell he did indeed have something else in mind; he just wasn't sure how she would react.

"Actually," he said, glancing down at the stark white tablecloth momentarily before lifting his gaze back to hers. "I've already applied for a teaching position at a few schools in the area." He spoke quickly and waited with a blank expression, but when her face split in a joyous grin he couldn't help but mimic her.

"That's great!" she exclaimed. "Any class would be lucky to have you for a professor."

"You think so?" his eagerness to have her approval was obvious, and she nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely." She lifted her own wine glass in salute. "To Professor John Smith." He laughed and joined her, clinking his glass to hers before taking a long drink. "I don't know what makes you think you won't be brilliant," she continued quickly. "You taught me loads in just a couple years, and you have such a desire to help people be better than they are. I mean, look at Jack. He was a con-man, and now he's out saving the world. And Martha, and Donna, and probably loads of others from before I even met you." She marveled at the shine of his eyes as her words of praise washed over him, and the smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat.

He opened his mouth to reply - to thank her for her words, and her presence, and just being Rose - but he was interrupted by Tanner delivering their meal. The conversation was lost amid Rose's admiration of the food and her not-so-subtle hints about the couples waltzing gracefully on the other side of the restaurant, but he couldn't help but love her even more as every moment passed. He had been worried that she would be disappointed if he didn't work with her at Torchwood, but every time he considered it his stomach churned with unease. Her simple acceptance lightened his heart, and he had to smile as her eyes lit up with a sudden thought.

"So tell me," she said between bites of her meal, "how's the TARDIS coming?" He smiled softly and leaned back in his chair. That had certainly been a surprise, and he still had a hard time believing that his own TARDIS was growing out in their clearing. When she fully matured and connected to this universe's Time Vortex, he and Rose would be able to have wondrous adventures once again.

"Slowly," he admitted, "I don't have everything I need to grow it properly. On Gallifrey, there were special fields for growing and attendants that supervised everything every moment. Even with Donna's trick, it will take a while to mature completely, and that's as long as I get what I need to nourish her." Rose's smile fell at his news, and she set her utensils down.

"I wonder if we have anything at Torchwood that would help," she offered, and he smiled as he shrugged. "If you want to come with me tomorrow, I can give you the grand tour and you can look in the vault for something."

"The vault?" he inquired with a curious glint in his eye. She laughed at the familiar expression and nodded.

"Yep, just a whole bunch of alien stuff we haven't classified yet. You could probably spend a whole week in there and not see everything."

"Oh, that sounds like a challenge, Miss Tyler," he teased.

"Maybe it is," she countered just as lightly, finishing the last bite of her meal with a flourish. "That was the most delicious meal I've had in a very long time." He finished his and pulled his napkin from his lap. He dabbed his mouth and deposited it on the table as he stood.

"The night's not over yet," he promised, holding out his hand. She took it immediately, letting him pull her from her chair as Tanner swooped in to clear the table. The Doctor led her over the dancing couples, and she didn't even have time to ask what he was doing as he whisked her onto the floor with a spin.

He was graceful, more so than his previous incarnation, and Rose smiled at the memory of tripping through a jig around the center console. He smiled too, caught up in the same memory as he relished the feel of Rose in his arms. The couples around them were in their own worlds, so when he lifted his arm to spin her round and round no one seemed to notice her squeal of delight or the rakish grin that stretched across his face as he pulled her flush to him. The hand that wasn't in his found his shoulder, and he finally inserted them into the twirling throng with ease. The Venetian Waltz continued, and Rose spared a glance at the lavishly dressed society around them as the Doctor pushed them through the steps. Everyone seemed very relaxed, as if this were Sunday tea and not a choreographed routine that required precision and awareness, but Rose only saw one or two actual smiles on the faces around them.

"They certainly don't seem to be enjoying themselves," she commented quietly, feeling the Doctor's fingers tighten ever so slightly on the small of her back.

"Status," he answered back just as quietly. "Most of these people are only here to keep up their image, I imagine. Because heaven forbid anyone actually seem happy in front of another person." Rose laughed out loud, stifling the noise in his shoulder when couples nearby glared at her. She barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at them, knowing how upset her mother would be if she found out. Rose had no doubts there were socialites here who associated with her parents or their friends, and she knew that their night out would probably be at least a source of gossip among the high society if not on the cover of some trashy paper tomorrow morning.

"Stop thinking for a minute," his voice was soft in her ear, and she grinned broadly as he twirled her around and out as the song came to an end. Another started, a quadrille if Rose remembered correctly, but she just froze as the couples around her set up for the dance. The Doctor looked at her helplessly, and she couldn't help but burst out in laughter as she realized neither of them knew what to do. So he grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and dropped his mouth to her ear.

"Run!" She laughed giddily as he handed Tanner an exorbitant amount of money for their meal, probably giving him half again in tips what they paid for the meal. The young college student just grinned broadly and thanked them loudly as they darted out of the restaurant and into the night air.

* * *

><p>So here's the first mention of their brand new baby TARDIS. I hope it's not too little for those of you who were begging me. Well, not begging per say, but definitely <em>asking<em> rather passionately. Well, okay, just asking. But there it is. It'll come up later, I promise.


	8. First Job Offer

This one's a bit shorter than the others. It also took on a mind of its own and decided to expand the Doctor/Jackie relationship a bit.

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><p>FIRST JOB OFFER:<p>

_"When people go to work they shouldn't have to leave their hearts at home."_ - Betty Bender

"Doctor, phone call for you." A soft knock on his study door pulled him from the history book he'd settled down with a few hours ago. He looked up at Jackie and smiled as he stood, stretching his stiff muscles. She handed him the handset quickly, dashing off to answer Tony's call for help from the bathroom.

"John Smith." Rose had warned him that he would have to start using his name unless he wanted to cause confusion wherever he went, and so he'd taken to using it at every possible opportunity. Though he had used it quite often in the past, it still felt very odd to be adopting it permanently.

"Doctor Smith, my name is Bill Singletary, I'm the Dean of Academics here at Forsythe University. I've been looking over your resume, sir, and I have to say I am very impressed with what I see. Would you be interested in coming down for an interview this Thursday?" The Doctor faltered for a moment, glancing down at his desk quickly.

"That would be wonderful, Dean," he said, forcing a smile onto his face. "What time?"

"Is two o'clock too late for you? I have a luncheon with the staff to attend until one."

"Two will be fine, thank you." They said their goodbyes and the Doctor hung up quickly. Jackie had apparently come back from whatever dilemma Tony had created and now stood in the doorway watching his face.

"Trouble, love?" The Doctor looked up at her, still a little unused to Jackie's new motherly attitude toward him. He shook his head and sank into his chair, picking up a sheet of paper from the desk.

"It was a university nearby," he told her. "They want an interview on Thursday."

"That's great, isn't it?" She stepped into the study fully, looking around at the decor. Books lined every wall, mostly non-fiction, but other than the worn leather sofa and small desk and chair ensemble there was little else to indicate that someone spent a great deal of time in there.

"I suppose," he answered blankly.

"Well then, why do you look like someone just ran over your dog?" He gave her a flat smile for her attempt to cheer him up, but the sigh that escaped his lips told her what she needed to know. As a mother she'd long ago gotten good at reading body language, especially when dealing with a rather bull-headed teenage girl. Rose had often commented (mostly under her breath) that Jackie had an annoying ability to keep nagging until she revealed the problem. The Doctor was beginning to see her point as she sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her.

"Have a sit and tell me about it," she urged. He hesitated only a moment, his long-ingrained fear of Rose's mother kicking in. But it only took another moment to rise out of his seat and join her. Wordlessly, he handed her the piece of paper he had been mulling over, and she took a quick glance.

"I thought you said they wanted an interview?"

"The university does," he agreed, "but that isn't their offer." She looked again and frowned.

"This is from a secondary school across town," she read aloud. "And not in the greatest neighborhood, at that." He ran his hand through his already disheveled hair and sank back into the cushions.

"I know," he told her. "But Forsythe has an entire staff of qualified professors, more than they probably have use for. Schools like this one," he tapped the edge of the paper, "they're the ones who really need them." Jackie set the sheaf on the seat between them and set her hand over his arm.

"You don't have to justify it to me, Doctor. A long time ago, my daughter very nearly pulled that ship of yours apart to get back to you. At the time, I didn't understand why she would do that; she was safer here at home with me. But you know what she said to me?" He shook his head slowly, his attention riveted on her. "She said that you showed her a better way of living life. You taught her that it's okay to take a stand, to do the right thing even when everyone else would just give up." He dropped his eyes back down to the paper, hoping Jackie hadn't seen the tears beginning to form in them. She wasn't done, though, and her hand moved from his arm to his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"If you think you can help these kids, that you can make a difference in their lives, then that's what you do." He looked up then, not bothering to hide his tears or his bright smile as he pulled her in for a hug. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, patting his back affectionately.

"You are a remarkable woman, Jackie Tyler." He kissed her forehead and sprang up from his seat. His nimble fingers dialed the number and she watched with a small smile as he bounced lightly on his toes. She marveled at his ability to go from melancholy to excitement in the span of seconds. After a few silent moments, he tilted the mouth piece toward his lips and took a deep breath.

"Dean Singletary? This is John Smith. I wanted to call you back to let you know that, unfortunately, I will be unable to meet you on Thursday." A few more seconds, then, "No, sir, I apologize, but I've received an offer I simply cannot pass up. Thank you for considering me. You as well. Goodbye." He hung up, turning a million-watt smile on Jackie. He opened his arms and bounded toward her again, but she jumped from the couch and dashed out the door.

"Oh no you don't," she chastised when he followed her into the hallway. "Why don't you put those to good use and go gather up your laundry." He dropped his arms to his sides dramatically, scowling at the mention of the chore. "Don't fuss, or I'll make you grab Rose's pile as well." Dutifully warned, he flashed her one last grin and leaped up the stairs to complete his task.

* * *

><p>I struggled with this one, but I like how it turned out. Poor Jackie has three children to deal with now...<p> 


	9. First Home

Here's a bit of a longer one to make up for the last chapter.

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><p>FIRST HOME<p>

_Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration."_ - Charles Dickens

"Rose, are you sure about this?" Jackie set a mug of hot tea in front her daughter as Tony clutched at her leg. Rose smiled at her brother and lifted him to her lap as Jackie sat across from them. It had been almost two weeks since the Doctor had accepted the job at the Kingsland School in London, and though Rose had been apprehensive at first, he'd won her over in the end with his compassion and kindness.

"Yes, Mum. We've talked about it, and it's what's best for us." She helped Tony take a bite out of her toast, wiping his jam-covered mouth afterwards. Jackie watched their interaction with affection, not trying at all to resist the motherly thoughts that whizzed through her head.

"Well, if you're sure. When's the big day?" Rose rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, taking the toddler with her. He protested for a moment before turning to play with her hair.

"The realtor says we can have the place by Friday, which gives us the whole weekend to move in." Rose pushed used the tip of her finger to push the paper toward her mother. Jackie snatched it up and stared at the image.

"But…it's so small, Rose." In truth, it wasn't any larger than their flat at the Powell Estate, but Rose wasn't going to mention that. She just shrugged and untangled Tony's sticky fingers from her hair.

"We don't need much space," she reasoned. "We'll turn one of the spare bedrooms into an office, and the Doctor already has plans for transplanting the TARDIS into the backyard." Jackie frowned at the mention of the fledgling time machine currently sprouting in her lawn, but she knew she would get nowhere trying to talk them out of it. They were always meant to travel the stars together, she knew that now. As a mother, however, she didn't have to like it.

"Good morning," the Doctor mumbled as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Rose pushed her plate of toast toward him as he sat down, and he grabbed her mug for a quick drink. Tony quickly disentangled himself from Rose and scrambled up into the Doctor's lap. The man adjusted easily to the small person now occupying the space in front of him, and handed him a small piece of toast. Tony settled back against the Doctor's chest, content to munch on his toast and listen to the adult conversation going on around him.

"We were talking about the house," Rose informed him, and he woke up a bit more.

"Yes, it's brilliant, isn't it?" he flashed a smile at Jackie, completely oblivious to the incredulous stare the older woman gave him. "It's closer to the school, and it's at the end of a cul-de-sac. Oh, you should see the backyard, Jackie. I can't wait to get the TARDIS set up."

"Well, it seems like you two have made up your minds. There's no stopping you now." She stood and deposited her mug into the sink. "Come on, Tony. Let's get you ready for the nanny." Tony pouted for a moment, but the Doctor patted him on the arm quickly and he slid off his lap and bounced after his mother. When they were alone, Rose reached over and took a piece of toast from the plate. They ate in silence, sipping from the same mug until they drained it dry.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked him finally, sliding the paper showing the house – _their_ house – back over to her side of the table. The Doctor stared at it for a moment before lifting his eyes to hers. He reached over and covered her hand with his own, trying to convey through just his touch how much this moment really meant.

"As long as we're together, we can handle anything." She flashed him a pleased grin, poking her tongue out between her teeth in a familiar expression. He scooted his chair closer, leaning in to kiss her soundly. Her free hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer as she responded eagerly.

"Oi! Save it till Friday night, won't you?" Jackie's indignant cry split them apart, but neither looked too ashamed at having been caught out. They shared one last heated look before standing almost simultaneously to begin their respective days.

Friday came almost too soon, and the Doctor watched in mild amusement as Rose dashed about her room frantically tossing whatever she could find into open boxes. She shot him a glare as he fiddled with a framed family photograph, wondering when on Earth Jackie had managed to sneak a camera out at their picnic two weeks ago.

"If you're just going to stand there not helping, you can leave," she snapped at him. He grinned at her and set the framed picture into a nearby box. On one of her many passes back and forth, he snaked out an arm and grabbed her around the waist.

"Rose, just wait for a moment." She stared at him like he'd lost his mind, but he didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. After a few seconds, her body relaxed and she settled against him comfortably. Neither of them said anything, but Rose could feel the strong, steady heartbeat beneath his shirt and the comforting warmth radiating from him. After a few more silent moments, he pulled back and kissed her forehead.

"Carry on with the madness, then," he grinned at her cheekily, earning a swat to his shoulder as he tried to duck out of the room.

"Tell Mum I'll be ready in ten minutes," she called after him.

Forty-six minutes later they were finally ready to go, and Rose took a deep breath as she slid into the driver's seat of her car. Pete and Jackie were ready to lead the way, followed by the moving van, then Rose and the Doctor. She glanced back at the mansion that had been her home for almost four years, and she fought back tears as memories rushed over her.

"Rose?" The Doctor's hand settled over hers, and she smiled at him softly.

"I used to hate this place," she admitted. "At first, whenever Mum mentioned something about going home, I couldn't help but picture our old flat, or the TARDIS." He flashed her a grin as he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "Now, though…" He didn't say anything in reply, but let her say goodbye to the mansion in silence. After a few more seconds, she shifted the car into drive and followed the van down the drive.

When the caravan pulled up to the small, three bedroom house, there was already a crowd gathered on the lawn. Rose recognized the young couple who had been so happy to have Rose and the Doctor moving in. A boy of about six dashed around an older gentleman's legs, chased by an excited lab puppy as a motherly looking woman tried to corral them both. The front door to their home was already open and as the movers unloaded the ramp, Rose and the Doctor moved to greet the neighbors.

"Rose, John, it's so great to see you again!" The younger woman moved to embrace Rose, and she returned it quickly as the Doctor shook her husband's hand.

"Thanks Mindy," Rose brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. "We really appreciate you and Nevin helping us today." Mindy waved her away with a friendly smile.

"Oh, it's no bother. It saves me from having to listen to this one yell at the telly all day." Nevin scoffed indignantly, but couldn't come up with a suitable defense. "Men and their matches," Mindy shook her head. "I'm sure John does the same."

"He's not really the sports type," she answered. "But he can get...enthusiastic." The Doctor gave a noise of protest, but they all just laughed. Mindy turned to the older couple behind her and beckoned them over.

"This is Mike and Janice Sheffield. They live at the end of the street." Rose and the Doctor shook hands with them, thanking them profusely for offering to help. Janice just smiled and waved her off as she finally managed to snag the boy dancing about the lawn.

"This is our grandson, Daniel. Danny, say hello." Daniel hid his body behind his grandmother, but waved nonetheless. The puppy sat obediently at his feet, tail wagging away excitedly. "And this is Boomer." The puppy barked on cue, causing the adults to laugh. Danny wormed his way away from his grandmother and ran away, laughing happily as Boomer followed. "Stay on the street!"

"We should get started if we want to be done before nightfall," the Doctor announced, and the gathered party moved toward the van. Rose introduced her parents, flushing embarrassedly as Mike recognized Pete.

"I thought you looked familiar," he told Rose happily. "You lot are heroes." Under Pete's supervision, Torchwood had become less a secret government organization and more of a highly skilled force under the indirect supervision of the republic. Their exploits were often heralded in papers, and Rose could barely go out into the city proper without someone hounding her for information or autographs. Pete opened his mouth to answer when the movers began shuffling out of the van carrying various pieces of furniture. Deciding to shelve that particular topic, the group turned as one to start moving them in.

They just barely made it before dark, and Rose spent almost ten minutes thanking the neighbors again. Mike and Janice left first, the former carrying a slumbering Danny on his shoulder as an extremely tired puppy followed slowly. Mindy and Nevin were next, promising to return the next day with lunch plans. Jackie hugged them both with tears in her eyes before climbing into the car and Rose waved tiredly as Pete pulled his Mercedes away from the house. Finally they were alone, and as the Doctor closed the front door behind them they felt a heavy silence settle over them.

There were boxes everywhere, in every corner of almost every room. The furniture had been positioned and re-positioned to Jackie's exacting specifications, leaving Rose and the Doctor the harrowing task of unpacking everything in the two days before school started on Monday. They stood side by side in the foyer surveying their surroundings. The sitting room opened to the right, complete with a picture window facing the backyard and an impressive fireplace on the opposite wall. The master bedroom was next to it, separated from the sitting room by a small L-shaped corridor.

Straight ahead was the kitchen, leading out to a utility room then the backyard. The hall to the left led to the two spare bedrooms and accompanying bathroom, but thankfully only the study would require any effort to unpack.

"So," the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Door, check." He glanced back behind him, then around the foyer. "Walls, check. Carpets, double check." She smiled and slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow to lean on him as he processed everything. "Yep," he concluded with only a slight hint of anxiety, "this is definitely a proper house."

She pulled his arm from his side and grabbed his hand to lead him over to the couch. Jackie had spared no expense, and every room was fully furnished with everything they didn't need. As they sank down into the soft leather, Rose made sure to keep a firm grip on his hand. Human or no, the Doctor was still the Doctor. He may have decided he wanted the slow path, but as the saying went old habits were hard to break. And no one had habits older than the Doctor.

"You alright?" she asked him finally. His eyes were still roving about the room, but she could tell he wasn't nearly as frantic about this as he'd been on that deep space exploration base. She almost laughed at the memory of his panicked face the moment he'd realized he was going to have to get a mortgage, but she managed to rein it in just in time.

"Yeah," his eyes finally fell on her and he gave her a relaxed smile. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him as they sank back into the cushions. "This is just…surreal."

"I know what you mean," she replied. "It all seems like it's happening so fast."

"Too fast?" he tensed slightly, but she reached over to pat his knee reassuringly.

"No, no of course not. I just never imagined being here, like this, with you. I always thought it was going to be you and me on the TARDIS forever." The wistfulness in her voice made his solitary heart hurt, and he wondered for a brief moment if she wouldn't have been better off returning to her own universe when she'd had the chance. The image of her leaving him behind on that beach took hold, and he lost himself to the sorrow of that imaginary moment. Only her soft hand on his face pulled him from his thoughts, and when he looked at her she had moved from sitting beside him to kneeling at his feet.

"Hey," there were tears in her eyes as she spoke, and not for the first time he wished he'd retained his Time Lord telepathy. When he focused on her, she grabbed his hand and lifted it to her face. She turned it over and placed a loving kiss to the center of his palm before moving it to cradle her own face.

"Are you happy, Rose?" He wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but it was out there now and he couldn't take it back. If he were honest with himself, it was a question he'd had flit through his mind on more than one occasion, he'd just never been brave enough to voice it. She raised up on her knees so she was eye level with him, moving his hand from her face to her chest.

"What we had together, out there among the stars…I wouldn't trade that time for anything in the universe. We were the stuff of legend." He gave her a watery smile as she continued. "But this is _ours_," she emphasized, "yours and mine." She took a shaky breath and laid her hand over his, feeling the pounding of her own heart against his palm. "I love _you_, John. And I cannot wait to start building this life with you."

He surged forward and kissed her soundly, letting the tidal wave of his emotions spill over through their contact. She responded eagerly, moaning against him as he deepened the kiss. One insistent tug was all it took to lift her from the floor into his lap, and she straddled his hips possessively as his arms snaked around her waist.

After a few intense moments, she pulled away to breathe deeply. His forehead dropped to her collarbone, and she could see him struggling with control as he caught his breath. Her fingers played with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and she felt a rumble of appreciation against her skin as she stroked the tense muscles around his shoulders.

"Rose," it was a plea and a prayer wrapped in one word, and she shushed him softly as he lifted his head. He kissed her softly in uncertainty, but she answered willingly as his arms tightened around her. In one smooth motion, he stood up from his position with her still firmly wrapped around his waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and nipped playfully at the exposed skin of his neck as he walked them back toward their bedroom. It was a moment he wanted to cherish forever; a moment that seemed too soon and at the same time not nearly soon enough. And as he laid Rose on the bed – on _their_ bed – he finally understood the meaning of home.

* * *

><p>For those wondering, the Kingsland School was an actual place, until they shut it down and opened another, preppier school a few years later. According to some sources, it was one of the worst schools in London in regards to test scores and truancy, so I thought it the perfect fit for the Doctor.<p>

[**_PROPER WARNING_**]: The next chapter will be high T to low M, so if mature, adult content disturbs you, you may wish to wait for the one after that. I am a firm believer that "the first time" in any relationship is a huge milestone, especially if you're with someone you love and cherish. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I couldn't leave it out of this story. [/_**PROPER WARNING**_]


	10. First Time

Wow, this took a lot longer to get down than I originally planned. Sorry for the delay!

**_Warning: This is a very high T. If graphic romance offends, please wait for the next chapter._**

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><p>FIRST TIME<p>

_"Sex is emotion in motion." - _Mae West

There had been an almost infinite number of times when he had dreamed about this very moment, but they all paled in comparison to actually lying next to her, feeling her heartbeat against his fingertips, hearing her gasps of pleasure as his nimble fingers danced across her skin. The short walk from the living room to the bedroom had taxed his already straining self-control, and the moment they laid down he was upon her. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, finding every sweet, sensitive spot and lavishing it with attention. Her nails gripped lightly into his neck and shoulders as she held on against the rush of passion sweeping through her, and he felt nothing but love for her as she moaned and writhed beneath him.

Minutes stretched on with nothing but her gasps of encouragement breaking the silence. But Rose had never been one to just sit back while he did all the work. When he finally came up for air she pounced, rolling them over to gain better access to his body. Her hair fell in a curtain around her face, and he wove his fingers through it as he pushed it away from her cheek. Using the hold he now had on her, he pulled her down for a heated kiss that left both of them gasping.

Her body was fully atop his now, and he could feel the heat rolling off of her as their hips connected. Instinctually he lifted up, and he watched in fascination as her eyes slammed shut in ecstasy. The guttural moan that escaped her lips sent a shiver down his spine, and he repeated the motion twice before she opened her eyes.

Using her legs as leverage, she lifted her body up enough to slip her shirt over her head. It was his turn to gasp as he gazed upon more of her than he'd ever seen. Before she could move further, he lurched forward and attached his lips to the first expanse of skin he could reach. His tongue darted out and caressed the soft flesh of her stomach, and his free hand splayed across her back to hold her to him. Now that they were both sitting up she made quick work of his shirt as well, and when their bodies connected they stilled for a moment.

"This okay?" her voice was low, but he could hear the question easily. He moved his mouth to her shoulder, humming against her skin as her hands roamed his back. With her knees on either side of his hips, he knew she could feel just how okay he was with their current situation. But, he thought, it never hurt to remind her.

"This," he accentuated his words with a kiss to her collarbone, "is absolutely," another kiss to her neck, "positively," her jaw, "fantastic." He whispered the last word against her lips, and he almost missed her smile as she crashed her lips onto his own. They wrestled for control for a moment, giving and taking in a primal battle, until Rose braced her legs and ground her hips into his. His growl echoed in the bare room as he flipped them over in one fluid movement, pressing her into the mattress.

His hands skittered about her body, eliciting all sorts of enticing noises from her. But when his thumb brushed the swell of her breast he took careful note of the absolute bliss that cross her features. Without further prompting his hands lifted to cup her fully, and he decided he couldn't tell if her skin or the silk bra was smoother.

Rose threw her head back as her mind was overwhelmed with sensations. How many times had she fantasized about this very moment? Her imagination had been somewhat lacking, she noted, as his dexterous hands gently kneaded her breasts in time with the careful motion of their hips. She could feel him straining against his trousers, and her hands wandered south of his waist line to encourage him further.

"Rose," his hiss stopped her movement, and there was no mistaking the desire burning in his eyes as he gazed down at her. Their eyes locked, and though they had always been able to communicate without ever saying a word he knew that there were some things that definitely needed saying.

"I love you, Rose." His hands moved from her breasts to her waist, and as he kissed her deeply his fingers deftly undid the button of her jeans. He pinched the zipper between his thumb and pointer, letting his other fingers drag torturously down the seam as he lowered it. His hand slipped between her legs, pressing up firmly into the searing heat as she moaned again.

"You know," he whispered huskily as she lifted her hips to allow him to peel the denim from her legs, "I dreamed about this so many times." His admission startled her, and her jeans bunched below her knees as she dropped back down and stared at him incredulously. He kissed her chin, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. "I couldn't do anything about it before…" he left the sentence hanging, knowing she would understand his meaning. The look in her eyes told him she did, and he continued. "But since we arrived here it's been more intense, harder to control."

"Why couldn't you do anything about it…before, I mean?" She used his term, unsure if talking about the other universe – the other Doctor – still bothered him. He paused, phrasing his answer deliberately as her legs shifted to kick off her jeans. With her lying in just her underwear, he found it much more difficult to concentrate on anything other than worshipping her until dawn.

"Time Lord physiology, mostly," he said finally. "My people –" he stopped and shook his head. "Time Lords don't reproduce like most species. Our people are loomed using genetic material from two individuals. Time Lords are 'born' – for lack of a better word – fully mature. There were no children on Gallifrey." Rose's brow furrowed in confusion, trying to imagine such a place. Her mind wandered for a moment, and she almost missed his next words. "There was no sex, not even for pleasure. _Especially_ not for pleasure."

"That sounds…" she paused delicately, but couldn't find a proper word.

"Boring?" he supplied with a lecherous grin. Her own smile split her face, and her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him down on her fully.

"Definitely boring," she agreed. "So even if you were attracted to me –"

"Which I was," he added quickly, ducking his head to nibble on her ear.

"Mmm, hold that thought," she pushed him gently to look at him properly. "So you're saying you lacked the equipment?" He laughed out loud at her description but shrugged one shoulder.

"I suppose. Rather, I possessed the equipment but was unable to utilize it properly." She laughed with him, taking advantage of their current position to lift her hips up into his again.

"But you're fully functional now, right?" His eyes darkened impossibly as he propped himself up on his elbows above her. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed down then forward, sending a jolt of pleasure through both their bodies that seemed to spark between them.

"What do you think?" His breath whispered across her skin, and she lost her last vestige of self-control.

"I think you're wearing too many clothes." Her fingers found the fastenings of his trousers, and she made quick work of them even as his own hands divested her of her underwear and bra. The moonlight streaming in through the window was enough to see by, and they studied each other for several silent moments. Finally, as if a dam had burst forth, he descended on her hungrily.

For almost an hour the only sounds filling the room were breathy gasps of pleasure and gentle murmurs of encouragement. He pushed her over the edge twice before they were joined completely, and the moment he was buried in her was as sacred as the birth of the universe.

Being terribly clever meant he had a steep learning curve, and it only took seconds before he was rocking them toward the precipice. She coaxed him along with her whispers, meeting him at every thrust with her body until she could no longer keep the rhythm. With a keening cry she clutched at him fiercely, riding out the wave of pleasure that washed over her. He crashed just behind her, crying her name into her shoulder as she held him fast.

The smell of sweat and _them_ permeated the air, and as he rolled to the side of her she followed him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. His fingers trailed lazily down her back, lulling her into a peaceful half-slumber as the enormity of what they'd just done hit her. His lips were pressed against her forehead as he caught his breath, and she could feel his contented smile against her skin.

"I love you," she said firmly, craning her neck to look at him properly. It took the last of her remaining strength to stretch up and kiss him, and he hummed against her lips gratefully.

"I love you, too, Rose. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life proving it to you." She settled back down against him with a sigh of contentment. "Get some rest, love. We have a house to unpack tomorrow."

* * *

><p>There, not too bad, I hope. With the holidays approaching, my update schedule might be a little more...sporadic. But a big thanks to all of you who have hung in there thus far. There <em>is<em> more to come, I promise!


	11. First Meal

FIRST MEAL

_"A meal can be an erotic experience in itself." - _Alex Comfort

"How was your first day, John?" Principal Holles tracked him down after the last bell, curious how the new teacher had fared with his students. John packed the last of his paperwork away and looked up with a smile.

"Oh, it was brilliant," he responded eagerly – possibly a little _too_ eagerly.

"Really?" Holles replied warily. "Because it's alright if it was overwhelming. I am aware that our students can be challenging, and they're not particularly known for their compassion when it comes to 'fresh meat.'" Both men chuckled at the term, and John relaxed a little.

"They were a bit rough," he admitted, "but I expected that. They've had six different teachers this term alone for this subject, so it's no wonder they responded the way they did. I'm sure it will get better." In truth, his slightly superior senses had picked out a plethora of new insults and phrases that he was sure even the Lady Cassandra herself would be proud of.

"Well," Holles smiled warmly, "I've arranged for a small get together with the staff this Friday for lunch. It's not much, just a small welcome, but it is tradition for incoming faculty." John smiled back and snapped his briefcase closed.

"That will be wonderful. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off. I promised Rose I would be home before dark." Holles nodded quickly and began to back away.

"Of course, of course. Have a good night, John, and I'll see you tomorrow. Tell your wife she is welcome at the lunch as well."

"I will. Goodnight Gregory." The Doctor watched the older man go, instantly questioning whether he should have corrected his boss or not. It was quite clear to both him and Rose where they were headed – he had practically proposed out on that beach all those months ago – but it was an entirely different thing to actually tell others that they were married when they weren't. Of course, he argued with himself, he hadn't actually _told_ Gregory Holles that he and Rose were married; the man had assumed and John hadn't corrected him.

When the Doctor had strolled through the front doors that morning, Principal Holles had greeted him with all the pomp and circumstance of visiting royalty. The older gentleman had immediately given him the impression of tradition and old-fashioned values, and so when the Doctor had mentioned his new home casually, Holles had inquired further. Upon hearing Rose's name he'd jumped to an instant conclusion – one the Doctor had not discouraged. Unfortunately, he now had to make a decision. He could either come clean to Principal Holles and apologize for the confusion, or he could ask Rose to pretend to be his wife.

_Why does she have to pretend_?

He frowned at the tiny voice in his head as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car. The sun was setting quickly, and he revved the engine twice before putting it into gear. The entire ride home was spent in deep thought, and he realized as he pulled into the driveway that he was extremely lucky to have a bit of Time Lord left in him after all; his complete lack of concentration on the road would have been fatal for a normal human.

He pulled his keys from his pocket, marveling at the few small pieces of metal that hung on the ring. Rose had given it to him that morning, all grins and bright eyes for his first day of work. He had recognized the spare key to her car and the house key he'd been given by the real estate agent, but there was another one tucked snugly between them. His eyes had filled with tears as he'd realized what it was, and Rose's arms were around him before he could even open his mouth to ask.

"I have you to remember her by," she had explained, "so I want you to keep this with you."

As he stood on the doorstep he stared at her TARDIS key once again, completely in awe of the depth of her compassion and understanding. He hadn't even realized how much he'd been missing the TARDIS until he'd held the small key in his fingers that morning.

"Are you going to stand there on the porch all night or come eat?" He looked up into Rose's eyes, surprise evident on his face.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shoving the keys back into his pocket. He stepped forward to move into the foyer, but Rose didn't budge. With a questioning glance, he halted his progress and looked down at her.

"Pay the toll," she teased, sticking her tongue out between her teeth as she smiled. He heaved a sigh of mock exasperation before leaning down to kiss her. He used the maneuver to push her backward and into the house, and when they broke she gave him a glare. "Cheater."

He just grinned at her as he shrugged his coat off and hung it up in the closet. She took his briefcase and set it in the living room before taking his hand and dragging him to the kitchen.

"You cooked?" His voice was half-surprise and half-worry, having remembered the several occasions on the TARDIS in which Rose had taken it upon herself to feed them. She was a whiz with a tea kettle, but not so much with a stove.

"Mum taught me," she said in a warning tone, and she could practically see him physically holding back a witty retort. Choosing a safer route, he lifted the lid and sniffed cautiously.

"Beef stew?" His brow lifted in question, and she shrugged as she picked up a spoon and stirred the thick stew around in the pot.

"It's just about done. Can you grab a couple of bowls?" He set to his task immediately, falling into the familiar routine as easily as they had on the TARDIS. She poured their drinks as he pulled bowls and spoons from their respective places. When that was done he set to slicing bread as she dished the stew out. They sat at the same time, looking over the table at each other with contented grins.

"Just like old times, huh?" she watched him attack the bowl with gusto, and her excitement over their first official dinner in their house caused her to miss the fleeting hesitation that seized him as he took in the first spoonful. He hummed in response to her question and continued to eat heartily. Rose smiled at him and lifted her own spoon to her lips, blowing softly on the hot stew before slipping it into her mouth.

She stifled the impulse to spit it back out again, forcing herself to chew the stringy meat and hard potatoes. She grimaced at the saltiness in her own stew, racking her brain to remember how much of the spice she'd put in. Had it been tablespoons or teaspoons in the recipe? She couldn't recall, but she knew whatever it was had been too much. When she finished her first bite she looked back up at the Doctor. He was still shoveling it in at an alarming rate, but now that she was looking for it she could see the tension in his jaw muscles and the twitchy constrictions of his throat as he strained to eat the horrible food.

"How is it?" she asked, glancing down at her own bowl. He swallowed thickly and looked up at her with a grin.

"Brilliant," he answered quickly. "Just brilliant. Your mum must have taught you well. It has just the right blend of flavors, and the meat is so tender it just melts in your mouth. And the potatoes! The potatoes are just...just..."

"Stop," she dropped her spoon into her bowl, causing little droplets of stew to splatter all over the tablecloth. He paused mid-sentence, another spoonful of stew already halfway to his mouth. "It's awful."

"No it isn't!" he shoved the bite into his mouth, using every ounce of self-control he had to chew it happily and swallow. "See?" His attempt to assuage her was thwarted by a violent coughing fit brought on by the overpowering saltiness, and she glared at him knowingly. With a disgusted sigh, she threw her napkin on the table and shot out of her seat, pushing his glass of water toward him a bit more forcefully than necessary. She grabbed their bowls and dumped them both into the sink as he took several long drinks to clear his tastebuds.

"Rose," he stood up and moved to her quickly, placing his hands on her shoulders as she stood over the sink. "It's...it's not a big deal." Her shoulders began to shake underneath his fingers, and he tightened his hold in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Hey, we'll make sandwiches and curl up on the sofa. I'll even let you pick the movie." He fought for something else to say, something that would make her feel better. He'd faced down countless enemies in battles so harrowing that seasoned warriors would run screaming, but he'd fight them all at once if it stopped Rose's tears. "Come on, Rose." He was beginning to panic as her trembling increased, and he spun her around with some effort in order to comfort her properly.

Except she wasn't crying.

Her face was red with the strain of containing her laughter, and he frowned at her. He'd once read that humans could react to overwhelming levels of stress in a variety of ways before they broke down completely, and he lowered himself until he was eye level with her.

"Rose?"

A burst of laughter escaped her, and she leaned back to get a better look at his face. "I'm sorry," she wiped her eye free of tears and took a deep breath. " I was just remembering some of my failed attempts at dinner on the TARDIS. Guess not much has changed, huh?" He smiled at her then, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gazed down at her lovingly.

"Oh, I don't know," he quipped. "I think this is better."

"Why?" She allowed him to grab her hands and pull her against him completely.

"Because I can do this now," he whispered, brushing his lips across hers in a soft caress. Just as he pulled away she stepped forward, deepening the kiss. His arms came around her fully as hers lifted into his hair, and the delightful groan that reverberated in her throat sent a shiver straight down to his toes. They hadn't made love since that first time, having spent the rest of the weekend getting their house in order. But the way she was pressing into him left him no doubt as to what she wanted now.

Never severing their connection, he spun them around and began marching them toward the bedroom. Halfway there she stumbled a bit, sending them both crashing into the wall. He let out a low chuckle as she took advantage of their position to hook one leg around his waist. His lips moved from her face to her neck, and he hummed contentedly as he tasted the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder. He continued to taste her, moving his lips and tongue across her throat to the other side.

"Mmm," he murmured against her skin. "You are delicious." She laughed then, using her grip on his shoulders to pull him against her fully. With her lips next to his ear, she nipped him softly before taking a deep breath.

"Are you sure you've got enough of a sample to judge properly?" He lifted his head to stare at her, completely dumbfounded by her sudden boldness. If she was suggesting what he _thought_ she was suggesting, he had a feeling his oral fixation was about to be completely sated.

_"Rose."_ It was growl from deep in his throat, filled with his absolute desire for her as well as the tenous control that kept him from taking her against the wall. She lifted herself up onto her toes, connecting their hips in just the right places to cause them both to shiver with delight. His left hand snaked down and clamped around her thigh, using his considerable strength to haul her up further. Her legs wrapped around his waist then, and he bucked against her instinctively.

"Oh," her breathy moan was enough to shatter his control, and he pulled her away from the wall to walk the short distance to their bedroom. Clothes were lost in a frantic rush, and he paused just long enough to gaze at her perfect body laid out before him. In the dim twilight filtering in through the blinds, he could just make out the blush that creeped up her chest and neck under his unabashed stare. As he descended upon her, he let out a soft huff of laughter.

"What?" she asked, feeling a bit annoyed at his odd timing.

"Nothing," he shook his head, letting his nose brush against her cheek. "I just thought you ought to ruin dinner more often."

"What?" Her frown deepened, but his lips across her forehead erased the wrinkles.

"If it means I get to have dessert first, then I'm for it." She relaxed into the mattress as his meaning washed over her, and his mouth began its tortuous exploration of her body. She had noted his odd fixation with tasting things ever since he'd regenerated into this body, but it hadn't gone past a quick observation on her part. Now, she realized how many fantasies she'd missed out on by neglecting his obvious delight at tasting absolutely everything.

"This alright, Rose?" he whispered against her stomach, and she could little more than hum her affirmation as his tongue traced delicate patterns on her skin. She lost her senses as he continued the exploration of her body, and she cried his name loudly as he worshiped her. In all of her experiences with men before, she had never felt so loved - so cherished - and together they discovered heights of pleasure she'd never known.

Afterward they lay tangled in the sheets, their chests heaving with satisfied exhaustion. As she rolled to her back in an effort to calm her still-trembling muscles, she heard a low rumble. Staring at the Doctor, she realized she had never heard his stomach growling in hunger before that night.

"I believe you said something about sandwiches and a movie?" She dragged herself to her feet, slipping her shirt back over her head. He watched as her beautiful body was hidden beneath the cloth, and held back a moan of disappointment.

"That I did," he hopped to his feet and pulled his trousers on, not bothering with his underwear. "Why don't you jump in the shower and I'll put them together." She hummed her approval as he stopped to kiss her languidly. After a few moments he forced himself away from her, and she smiled at him as she slipped into the adjoining bathroom. With one last longing look at the closed door, he set to the kitchen to make their dinner.

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><p>Well then...<p>

I hesitated to write two chapters in a row that ended a bit steamy, but then I remembered how most couples are in those first few weeks of a relationship. Adding in the deepest of friendships and a love that literally stood the test of time and well...I apparently couldn't _not_ write it.

My apologies that these last few chapters are so spaced out. I hate to cite the over-used excuse of "life's been hectic recently," but it has. There's also the small problem that my attention has been split over several other fandoms, and the little plot machine in my head will not stop churning out ideas. It's a pleasant switch from my usual writer's block, but it also means I'm having difficulty focusing on one thing. I guess this long post is mainly to thank those of you still reading. You are the dedicated, and this is for you.


	12. First Separation

Yay! I'm back with another chapter. And a long one to boot. I also have the next few chapters somewhat sketched out, so I should be updating a bit more frequently for now. I will say now that this one is more about the shameless fluff than any real significant "first." But I'm not sure anyone will mind. Is anyone still reading? )

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><p>FIRST SEPARATION<p>

"_The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence."_ – Edward Thomas

John tossed his keys onto the desk with a heavy sigh; whoever had coined the term TGIF had certainly hit the nail on the head. Two months at the school had seemed almost an eternity, but things were getting better. His students were actually starting to pay attention, and their test scores in his class had risen almost a full letter grade. Granted, they were still mostly failing, but it was better than it had been.

The house was still dark, which meant that Rose was still at work. She'd called earlier in the day to tell him Pete had a mission for her – a crashed ship off the coast, nothing to worry about. Still there was a nagging in the back of his mind that wouldn't go away. He pulled out his mobile and found Pete's number quickly, pressing the green button before he could rethink it.

"Pete Tyler."

"Pete, it's John," he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further than the wind from the ride home.

"Ah, John, how are you?" Pete's tone held a hint of amusement, and John let out a huff.

"Just checking in," he tried to sound casual, but he knew Pete would see right through it.

"Everything's fine, John. _Rose_ is fine. Her team is out in the field now; they should be back any time."

"Good, good," John sank down into an armchair and forced his muscles to relax. "So…how's Torchwood?"

"Tell you what," Pete said quickly, not fooled for a moment by his nonchalance, "I'll text you discreetly when they arrive. That way Rose won't have to know you're keeping tabs on her."

"Oi! I'm not 'keeping tabs' per se, I just…had a funny niggling."

"A niggling, you say? Well, that does warrant a certain amount of worry then." John let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head back against the cushion. "Listen John," Pete's tone changed from good-natured ribbing to serious in an instant. "Rose has been doing this for a good long while now; longer than I've known her." The implication was clear, and John knew he was referring to her time spent on the TARDIS. "She's good at what she does, and this mission is the very definition of textbook. I know you worry about her – I do as well. But we both have to trust her."

"Yeah, alright." He took a deep breath and sat forward. "You won't tell her I called?"

"I'm the very model of discretion," Pete promised. "But fair warning, John: Tyler women have a way of…_knowing_ things." John laughed then, feeling of bit of his unease slip away.

"Too right, Pete. I'll see you Saturday." He hung up after Pete's goodbye and stood, feeling that worry settle in his stomach like lead. Despite Pete's assurances, he knew he wouldn't feel alright again until Rose was safely in his arms.

He jerked awake sometime later, having fallen asleep on the sofa as he read another journal. His phone beeped noisily from the end table, and he fumbled a bit before he found the offending item.

"'Lo?" he mumbled, not even bothering to check the ID. Whoever it was had the audacity to call him at – he checked the clock – _one forty seven_ in the morning, they could deal with an irascible ex-Time Lord.

"John?" He was out of his seat in a shot, his brain finally connecting the late hour, the lack of Rose's presence, and the rather despairing tone from the man on the other end of the phone.

"What happened? Where's Rose? Is she alright? Tell me she's alright, Pete." He could feel his one heart hammering mercilessly inside his chest, and he felt as though it would pound right through his chest with every beat.

"I…I don't know, John. Look, I'm stuck here sorting everything. Could you swing by the house and pick up Jackie on your way here?" John was already halfway to the car before he remembered he needed keys to operate the thing.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'm on my way." He rung off without saying goodbye, shoving the device into a too-shallow pocket as he ran back into the house to grab his keys and wallet. A photograph of him and Rose sat on the mantle, and his eyes were glued for a moment to her smiling face. Flashes of a lonely life without Rose by his side flew through his mind, but he forced them away. He had to focus on getting to Torchwood first, then he could begin tearing the universe apart looking for her.

Jackie was waiting with a tear-streaked face as he skidded to a stop outside the Tyler mansion. He barely had time to unlock the door before she had climbed in and flung herself at him. He held her as she sobbed against him, whispering reassurances he didn't fully believe himself. When she'd settled enough to pull away, he offered her a handkerchief and a soft smile.

"It's going to be alright, Jackie." She smiled back through her tears, nodding as he put the car into drive and peeled out onto the road. The drive to Torchwood was silent save for the infrequent directional assistance from Jackie. When they pulled up to the facility, Pete was waiting with a very pitiful-looking Jake at his side. The boy had his right arm in a sling, and there were small lacerations and first degree burns on the left side of his face. Jackie fell into Pete's arms as John strode up to the man in charge, looking as thunderous as his former moniker suggested.

"What's happened to Rose?"

It turned out that information regarding that particular question was somewhat lacking, despite Jake's recollection of events. They all sat in Pete's office as the senior officer recounted the tale.

"Earlier today, reports came in of a crashed ship near Colchester. It was fairly routine, so Rose and I thought it would be a good time to test out some of the new recruits. We picked a medic and a tech and headed out." He held a mug of cold water in his uninjured hand, and each time he paused he took a small drink.

"When we got there it was pretty bad, and so Rose told the other two to stay back while we went ahead to make contact. We tried for almost ten minutes, but there was no response. We figured they had to be injured or dead, so I took Hank – that's the medic – in to investigate while Rose and Lawrence set up a perimeter." John didn't miss the dark look that passed over Pete's face at the mention of Rose's partner, but he forced himself to focus on Jake's tale.

"We didn't even make it to the ship when this…this _darkness_ came over us. It surrounded us and darkened and darkened until everything went black. It was like being blind. Then there was this intense heat and I felt myself falling, but I couldn't see and I couldn't hear. I'm not sure how much later I came to, but I could see. Hank was bleeding from a head wound; the blast or whatever it was knocked him back into a rock pile. I landed on my side," he added, indicating his injured arm, "but otherwise I was okay. I tried to call out for Rose or Lawrence, but no one answered." Pete's face tightened again, and this time John couldn't ignore it.

"Where is this Lawrence?" he asked curtly, and Pete clenched his jaw.

"He's being detained…for questioning." At his family's puzzled looks he elaborated. "We found him several miles away, cowering in the corner of a café. Apparently, when everything started, he panicked and ran." John started to say something acidic in reply, but Jackie Tyler beat him to it.

"The sodding coward, leaving my Rose alone! Give me five minutes alone with him and he'll have learned a smart lesson." Pete and Jake seemed shocked at her outburst, but John was trying to hide a smile. He'd learned long ago that Jackie Tyler was not a force to be reckoned with, especially where Rose was concerned. He reached out a hand and laid it on her arm in a comforting gesture.

"It's alright, Jackie. Rose is going to be fine." She turned her watery gaze on him, willing his words to be true. So many times the man with his face had taken her daughter out on fantastic adventures with a similar promise, and every time Rose had come back to her. It was that reassurance she needed now, and her hand gripped his like a lifeline as Pete stood.

"We received Jake's distress call and rendezvoused to pick them up, only Rose was nowhere to be found. The ship was inaccessible, and there were no extra footprints around the area she was last seen." John ignored him for the time being, his mind working over every possibility. He stood as well, but Jackie's vice-like grip on his hand halted him. He knelt down on the floor at her feet, laying his free hand over their joined ones.

"I have to go, Jackie. I have to go look for her."

"Promise me you'll bring her back to me." He stared into her eyes with a conviction that left her breathless.

"If I have to search every star in the sky." He lifted himself up, kissing her forehead as he moved. She released his hands, replacing them with Pete's as the man pulled his wife against him consolingly. Jake looked at John apologetically, but he didn't have any time for the younger man's pity party.

"I'll start with Lawrence."

Lawrence Dillinger, it turned out, was an absolutely useless lump of a man. He had turned and fled at the very first sign of trouble, and rumors were spreading that the man's dismissal from Torchwood was pending upon Rose Tyler's reappearance. Still, John had gotten a fairly decent description of the spaceship that had crashed and determined that it wasn't any hostile species he was aware of.

"Why do you even employ someone like that?" John asked of Pete as they marched quickly toward the central control room. Pete grimaced and shook his head.

"His father is a privateer, and an old friend of mine. Lawrence failed his admittance into the military forces, so his father thought I could give him a job here. He's a whiz with computers and a genius to boot. I'd always known he was a bit of a ninny; I just hadn't realized he was a full on coward." Pete took a breath and stopped in the hallway, his tone dropping to keep their conversation unheard. "If I had known, John, I would never have approved his assignment to the team. But Rose…" John clapped the older man on the shoulder with a flat smile.

"She always sees the good in people, thinks everyone deserves a chance." Pete nodded, and for a moment each man was lost in his thoughts. But just as quickly they snapped out of it, resuming their hurried pace down the corridor.

The control room was buzzing with activity. Agents who were normally off-duty were milling about, crowding the already cramped space. It seemed Rose was quite popular around the organization, and everyone wanted to help find her. Pete stepped up into a chair with the aid of John's shoulder, and activity petered to a halt.

"I would like to thank you all in your tireless efforts to find my daughter. But you are no good to us tired. If your shift is over, please, go home and rest. We will need you at your sharpest. If you're on duty now, I need all pertinent reports in my hands five minutes ago." Conversations started up again as people began filtering out. Soon each station was manned by only one person, and Pete was conversing in low tones with three others in the corner. John was darting about from screen to screen trying to discern whatever information he could manage.

"John," Pete called out, and it took the younger man only half a second to dash across the room. Pete gestured for the thin man next to him to speak.

"Instrumentation in the vehicle went haywire at the moment of darkness," he stammered, obviously intimidated by the presence of "the Doctor." He'd heard stories from Jake and the others, but standing face to face with a seemingly unstoppable force was humbling. "All the readouts blanked, and for almost ten minutes we recorded nothing but zero values."

"Zero values?" John's face wrinkled in confusion. "But that's impossible." He glanced at the screen next to him and shook his head. "At the very least your stuff should be registering background noise."

"That's just it, though," the mousy man continued. "There's absolutely nothing. It's like...like the world just stopped being for almost ten minutes."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," John scolded, pulling out a pair of square rimmed glasses. Ironically, he was beginning to really need them to study smaller print, and he leaned over the shoulder of a techie to peer at her monitor. "Right," he stood back up and whipped the glasses off of his face. "I'm going to need every piece of equipment they had in their vehicle, as well as an identical set that was not at the site. I also need a power source - preferably one not linked to the grid - and precisely three point two meters of copper wiring." For a moment the techies stood dumbfounded, but a sharp word from Pete had them scurrying to complete the task.

"Do you think you can find her?" Pete kept his voice low, but John could hear the worry in his tone. Plastering his best fake smile on his face, he shrugged off the other man's concern.

"Of course I can," he quipped. "The Doctor is in."

Fourteen hours later, they were no closer to discovering what had happened to Rose than they were before. But John had discovered the source of the confusing zero value conundrum.

"Just your basic triwave, multi-phasic sensory blanket modified with an angular beam to contain it to a very precise region." Mousy Tech looked like his head was going to spin from the rapid-fire information, but Pete just waved him away as John began rambling about anachronistic technology and space temporal physics. "But what's curious," John continued as he darted about the machines, "is that whoever it was laid the blanket in the first place. If they took Rose, then why? It's obviously not some hostile threat, or they would have contacted us by now. It's not a ransom demand because we've received no communication. So why Rose? Why not Jake? Or Hank? Or even Lawrence the Chicken?" He paced about the room still ranting, not caring if anyone was listening or not. All the techs had long since abandoned any hope of keeping up with him, and had been relegated to watching the monitors for any change around the crash site. Jackie was still holed up in Pete's office taking care of whatever she could over the phones, which left Pete to check in on John now and then. He'd skipped breakfast in favor of setting up all the equipment, and as far as Pete could tell he'd passed right over lunch as well. Any attempt to get the man to slow down proved futile, but Pete tried anyway.

"Let's think on it over a sandwich in the cafeteria, John." He made to grab the younger man's elbow on one of his passes, but John dodged him easily.

"No time," he snapped. "The sooner we figure out who has Rose and why, the sooner we can get her back." Pete could see the beginnings of panic creeping over John, and wondered how much longer he'd be able to go without rest or food.

"And we will," Pete kept his voice even and calm. "I just think we'll be clearer-headed after we've eaten. You need a break, John."

"No." The finality in his voice startled Pete, and he knew he was going to have to resort to more drastic measures. For the time being, however, he let him alone. He could go on a bit longer, and he was really the best person for the job.

Pete brought him a cup of tea and some crackers every few hours, but he had to practically force them down his throat as he prattled on about this or that. Time was beginning to take its toll, however, and more than once Pete caught the younger man fighting a yawn or blinking at a monitor blearily. Finally, when the first shift arrived again Sunday morning, Pete had had enough.

"You're no good to Rose half-starved and exhausted. Take a break; you'll feel loads better." Pete hated ordering the man about - he was practically family - but he knew John couldn't go on like he was.

"I have to find her, Pete." There it was; the desperation, the ever-driving need to have Rose safe beside him again. Pete understood and felt a pang of sympathy, but he couldn't let the young man run himself into the ground.

"I understand, John, I do. But you need to rest. You have slept in almost two days, not counting the couple of hours you got Friday night. You're going to collapse." John ignored him in favor of tinkering with some gadget he'd cobbled together. Max the mousy tech had long since gone home and returned fresh, and was now hovering over John as if he were the Messiah himself. Pete sighed and laid his hands over John's shaking ones, forcing the man to stop what he was doing.

"If you don't spend the next six hours napping on the sofa in my office, I will call security and have you escorted from the premises." John's head snapped up at that, and Pete could see fire burning in his eyes. It was a low blow, but a necessary one if John was going to be any further help.

"You know I'm the best chance she's got, Pete."

"Yes, I do," Pete stood his ground. "And God knows I love Rose like she were my own daughter. But I care about you, too. And you simply cannot go on like this. You're human, John."

"I know that!" he barked, sweeping his arm across a cluttered table. Bits of tech and papers scattered under the assault, and Max rushed forward to keep him from damaging anything important. "I feel like there's this energy coursing through me, but my mind won't focus." He'd quieted down, so much that Pete had to lean in to hear him. The older man put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing as John hunched over the table.

"You need rest. Max and the others will keep searching, but you have to sleep." Exhaustion more than reason seemed to be the key, and when Pete gripped John's shoulders the man stood without protest. Max took the delicate instrument and set it on the table for further analysis as Pete led John out the door.

In the harsh, fluorescent light of the hallway, John's seemingly bedraggled appearance looked worse. The bags under his eyes were a dark, sickly color standing out against the paleness of his too-taut skin. His hair was wild and sticking up in every direction from his constant worrying and fussing, and his entire body sagged with exhaustion against the walls of the lift as Pete keyed in the top floor.

Jackie had gone home and come back with Tony, who was napping in a rather haphazardly constructed fort in the corner of Pete's office. Jackie herself was sitting behind the desk, conversing sharply but quietly with whomever was on the other end. As Pete and John walked in, however, she quickly hung up and jumped from her seat.

"Good gracious, what's happened to you?" She hurried to John's side, taking some of his weight as he slipped a thin arm about her shoulders. Pete directed them to the long couch with a nod, and Jackie moved quickly under the ever-increasing weight.

"He's worked himself to exhaustion," Pete whispered. "He hasn't slept or eaten in 36 hours, and that's after a full day's work at the school." They managed to stretch John out on the sofa, and Pete moved to retrieve a spare blanket from Tony's fort as Jackie sat on the edge of the cushions. She pushed the sweat-soaked hair away from John's forehead, meeting his tired eyes as he blinked owlishly at her.

"I'm sorry, Jackie. I haven't found her." Her heart broke at the despair in his tone, and she shushed him with a careful brush of her fingers through his hair.

"Yet, love. You haven't found her yet. You need to rest, dear." A single tear escaped his eyes as he closed them, and she wiped it away with a loving caress. "It'll all turn out right in the end, you'll see. You've done what you could, now sleep."

"Six hours," he murmured, and she furrowed her brow.

"Sorry?" He opened his eyes suddenly and took a deep breath.

"Pete said I had to sleep six hours or he'd kick me out." Jackie shot a look at her husband that was somehow both grateful and annoyed, but instinctually she knew what John was asking of her.

"I'll wake you in six hours then." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, running her hand over his hair once more in a motherly gesture. "Sleep well, love." His eyes drifted closed and he was out, leaving Jackie and Pete in silence.

"Mr. Tyler?" a voice came over the intercom some time later, and Pete dove to stifle it. Tony stirred and Jackie tutted with disapproval as she went to keep him quiet. Pete turned his back to the room as he pressed the call button.

"Yes?" He hoped by keeping his voice low that whoever it was on the other end would get the hint. No such luck.

"You're needed down here, sir." The man's voice rang loud through the silent office, and Jackie was already hissing at whoever it was to hush. Rather than try and talk it out over the comm, Pete sighed.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment." He clicked it off in case any other employees tried to contact him the same way. "I'll be right back, Jacks." She waved him off, still dealing with a cranky, half-asleep Tony. John, however, hadn't budged an inch through all the noise. Pete let out a soundless laugh and raised an eyebrow. "Sleeps like the dead, that one."

Jackie smiled in agreement, recalling a time so long ago when he 'd slept so soundly. "Not even Christmas trees can wake him up," she quipped, earning a quizzical stare from her husband. "Go and see what the fuss is about," she ordered lightly. "And see about bringing something to eat when you come back." Biting back the "yes, dear" in his throat, he waved his acknowledgement and slipped out the door.

He tapped his fingers impatiently as the lift descended to the ground floor. He knew that no one would disturb him without good reason, but with first shift on duty it could be any number of matters that required his attention. The lift dinged and the doors opened, revealing the long, brightly lit hallway. He strode purposefully to the command center, opening the door with a bit more force than necessary.

"What is all the fuss abo – oh my God." He rushed forward to pull the disheveled looking girl into his arms. "Rose, what the hell happened?" She clung to him for a moment, very aware of the curious eyes in the room. He pulled her out into the hallway, shutting the door firmly before pulling his daughter back into his arms.

"I'm alright," she said against his shoulder. "Really, I'm fine." He pushed her to arm's length, looking up and down for any sign of injury.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," she stepped back and ran a hand through her hair. "I remember getting to the crash site, then sending Jake and Hank in. Then the whole place went dark and Lawrence ran. I tried to call him back, but then everything went black. When I woke up I was lying in a strange bed on the ship. A voice told me that I was being saved, but I don't remember being injured. A few hours ago, they said I was safe and they let me go. I don't even know who they were, but when I looked back the entire crash site was gone."

"Jake said there was some sort of blast, but all of our instruments didn't register a thing. We've been working non-stop to figure it all out." Rose's eyes darted around, and Pete knew who she was looking for. "He's been up for two days solid with no food and no rest. I very nearly had to carry him up to my office. Come on, the debriefing can wait. Your mother will want to see you." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her safely into his side as he signaled for the lift. He didn't let her go even as they stepped in, and she nudged him lightly with her elbow.

"Did you miss me?" she grinned cheekily as he pressed the top floor button, but he just looked back at her solemnly.

"Rose," he laid his hands on her shoulders heavily, "I've been meaning to tell you something for quite a while now, I could just never find the right time. You may not have been born here, but I consider you my daughter. I love you so much, Rose." She smiled through tears and launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you, too, Pete…_Dad_." He closed his eyes, reveling in the title she'd bestowed upon him. They were still embracing as the lift dinged, signaling their arrival. She kept a hold of his waist as he guided her toward the office, but before she could open the door he paused.

"Wait here a moment, I'll go fetch your mum." He slipped inside, leaving Rose standing in the hall. She had been so focused on getting back to Torchwood, she hadn't really had time to process everything that had happened. Finding out she'd been missing for almost two days was a shock; hearing that John had searched tirelessly for her wasn't. Despite having been separated from his…counterpart for almost half a year, he was still her Doctor and he would always come for her.

Her mum was already in tears as the door opened, and she hugged the woman in relief as Jackie wept into her shoulder. After several reassurances that she was, in fact, unharmed, Jackie finally released her. She grabbed Tony's hand – who had been so preoccupied by camping out at his daddy's office that he hadn't even registered Rose's disappearance – and kissed Pete goodbye. After another quick kiss for her daughter and extracting a promise from Rose to drop by the house later, Jackie disappeared into the lift with Tony. Pete patted her on the shoulder, pushing her toward the door.

"He's still asleep, so be gentle." Rose laughed and hugged him again, whispering her thanks. She slipped into the room quietly, padding over to the sofa.

John was sprawled out across the cushions, one arm hanging off the side and mouth slightly open. He snored lightly as he breathed in, and Rose couldn't help running her fingers through his completely wild hair. He didn't even stir, and Rose remembered what Pete had said. The dark bags under his eyes told her the story of his desperation, and she felt her heart swelling for love for this wonderful, crazy, brilliant man.

"Well, I suppose there's only one way to wake Sleeping Beauty." Holding her hair over one ear, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. He groaned then, responding automatically to her kiss even in his sleepy state. She plied his lips a bit longer before pulling away, smiling down as his eyes blinked open.

"Rose?" She watched as a myriad of emotions crossed his face – confusion, surprise, wonder, joy. He launched himself forward, crushing her against him with a frantic grip. Before she could even say his name he pulled her onto the couch with him, laying her out against his body like he couldn't get enough of her.

He murmured her name over and over as he planted kisses in her hair, on her face, wherever he could reach. He pulled her up a bit to bury his face in her neck, and she could feel his tears soaking her shirt as he wept in relief. She held him tightly as he cried, shifting to cradle his body in her arms.

"I'm alright, John," she whispered, "I'm here." He pulled away as far as the cramped space would allow and took in her appearance. Her hair was limp and tangled and there were smudges of dirt on her neck and cheek, but she was otherwise uninjured.

"What happened Rose? Where were you?" She settled herself more comfortably on top of him and stifled a yawn with his chest.

"I'll tell you after a nap. I'm completely knackered." He shifted a bit to allow her to relax completely in his arms, kissing the top of her head. His own exhaustion was creeping back upon him, coupled with a deep relief that settled in his soul. Rose was safe in his arms, and he could finally rest peacefully. With a wide yawn, he kissed her once more and followed her into slumber.


	13. First Fight

Another update! Happy Saturday all.

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><p>FIRST FIGHT<p>

"_Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes habit." – Peter Ustinov_

Rose had loved the Christmas season ever since she was a little girl. It wasn't just the anticipation of getting presents that excited her; she had always enjoyed the weeks leading up to Christmas more than the holiday itself. The crisp, chilly air radiated with festive spirit, and even in this parallel world it seemed some things were universal. Everywhere she went there were smiling faces, and the cheerful music that blasted from every speaker in the square only served to brighten the already sunny day.

Rose bid goodbye to Monica, a rather perky medic from Torchwood who had welcomed her unquestioningly when Rose had first started at Torchwood. Monica had become Rose's only real "girlfriend" in this parallel world, a fact that Rose lamented as she searched her contacts earlier for a shopping buddy. As they parted, Monica winked at her and lifted her hand in farewell.

"Say hi to John for me, Rose," she purred, and Rose laughed. Ever since his arrival, John's occasional presence at Torchwood had been fuel for the gossip mill. Only senior officers and a select few junior ones knew his true origins, and so when Rose had introduced him as her boyfriend she had instantly become a target for every rumor-mongering mouth in the institute. Rose was well aware how charming he could be when he wanted to be (and sometimes when he didn't even mean to be) but she was far too wise to listen to half the rumors whizzing around the office.

Monica, it seemed, was the only other girl who was unaffected by the gossip-bug and so Rose had latched onto her like a lifeline. They shared private jokes about John's popularity among the staff while shopping in London, and Rose felt grateful to have found such a friend.

"I will, Monica. Take care." Rose stowed her packages in the boot of her car before climbing in. She smiled to herself as she thought about the wonderful meal she had planned for the evening.

It had been eight months to the day that they'd landed back on Bad Wolf Bay, thrown together and ready to start their new life. With exams approaching, John had been overwhelmingly busy at the school preparing his students as well as he could. The past few nights he'd phoned her around four to let her know he'd be late, but he had never stayed at the school past six o'clock. She knew he was dedicated to his students, but she had also cautioned him about wearing himself too thin. With her recent disappearance and his subsequent exhaustive search so fresh in their minds, John was inclined to agree. So Rose had decided to celebrate their milestone while giving John a well-deserved break by cooking his favorite meal. With all the makings tucked safely in her boot, she headed home to begin preparations.

Four o'clock rolled around and there was no message from John. Delight filled her as she realized he would home soon, and she scrambled around the kitchen to start the meal. Christmas carols were the theme of the evening as she hummed to herself, remembering the last Christmas she had spent with him. He had looked so adorable in the blue paper hat from his cracker, and Rose felt herself warming at the first memory of his brilliant smile.

She had never told him, but until he walked through the door wearing that long coat and ridiculous grin, a tiny part of her had believed he'd just left without her. She never mentioned it to him; he'd long since proven his devotion to her and now such thoughts were completely ludicrous. But there had been one heart-stopping moment when they stood in the falling ashes of a destroyed vessel when she'd believed he didn't want her along. They laughed about it later; when she had become accustomed to his new face and he had saved an entirely new race of humans, they had shared a cup of tea and talked about those few awkward moments outside the TARDIS when they'd lost their heads. Because of course he would always want Rose at his side and of course she would always want to be there to hold his hand.

She thought about it all now as she set the dish to bake. They'd come so far, written so many more chapters in their book, and though she'd had her stubborn moments of defiance on that godforsaken beach, she really couldn't imagine her life any other way now. She would always been grateful for her time traveling in the TARDIS, but living a life with him, day after day, was a gift she would treasure always.

She was so lost in thought that she hadn't even realized how late it was getting. When the timer beeped she pulled the casserole out of the oven to cool, noting that it was past five, and well past time for John to be home. Knowing how he could lose track of time (a fact she took no small amount of pleasure ribbing him about), she pulled out her cell phone and keyed in his number. It went straight to voicemail, and she smiled at the five or so seconds of silence that marked the beginning of his voicemail message.

"_Yes, well, this is John…Smith, John Smith. And I'm either very busy and cannot answer my phone or I have decided that I just don't want to speak with you at this moment. Either way, leave me a message. I might get back to you soon."_

She left him a quick message to call her when he received it then hung up before bursting into laughter. Despite having been there when he'd recorded the thing, it still made her laugh. She placed a towel over the casserole to keep it warm, then moved into the dining room. If John were driving he probably wouldn't answer his phone, so she guessed he was probably almost home. She quickly pulled a couple of candles from a junk drawer and arranged them precisely on the dark oak table that sat unused for most of the year. Rose had protested its purchase, but Jackie had insisted that she have a proper dining room suite in case she entertained neighbors.

"Thanks Mum," Rose murmured as she straightened the tablecloth just so. Thirty minutes later she adjusted it again, rearranging the candles to sit in the middle of the table. Fifteen minutes after that she blew them out and stormed into the kitchen. The casserole had grown cold, and Rose quickly threw cling film over the dish and tossed it into the fridge, her frustration boiling over as she heard the front door open.

"Rose? I'm home!" She glanced at the clock and scowled at the time; almost seven o'clock and dark outside. She leaned against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest, her anger bubbling inside as she began to fume. He stepped into the kitchen with a pleasant enough smile, one that fell the moment he saw her.

"Where have you been?" she demanded quietly, not at all ashamed of the accusatory tone in her voice. He stood shocked for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"I…I was at work," he said quickly. "I told you earlier this week that I would probably be working late until exams were over." He dropped his shoulder bag to the floor and frowned. "Are you alright, Rose?"

"No, I'm not bloody alright!" Her arms unfolded, but she clenched her fists tightly as they hung at her sides. "I just spent over two hours preparing a dinner for us, which is cold now. When you didn't call, I assumed you would be home on time." He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Rose, but I do remember telling you I would be late for the rest of the week." He was already weary from a long and trying day, and dealing with Rose in one of her "moods" was not high on his list of things to do this evening. He had been looking forward to a late dinner and a cuddle on the couch, and instead he'd walked into an inquisition.

"Why didn't you pick up when I called?" She knew she was being petty now, but her frustration at the evening's turn of events wouldn't abate. Instead it seemed to fester inside of her, boiling within until nothing but acid spewed forth.

"Why are _you_ interrogating me?" he shot back. "My phone was turned off for classes. I must have forgotten to switch it back on; no big mystery." His tone only served to infuriate her further, and she pointed a finger at him.

"Don't patronize me, John."

"Don't treat me like a child, Rose." They stared each other down for a moment, neither side willing to give in. He should have left it, walked away and talked it over with her later, but the small part of John that had come from Donna Noble simply would not let it go. Instead, he couldn't resist one more barb. "I hadn't realized you needed to account for my every waking moment." Rose went from fuming to furious in record time, her face red as she took a step toward him.

"What, like you calling to check up every time I'm out on a mission?" she bit back snidely. Pete had warned him, but he was still shocked that she'd bring it up now.

"It was once, and I was right to worry! You were held captive aboard an alien vessel for two days, Rose. And we still don't know who they were." He raised his tone to match hers, too far gone now to care about salvaging any dignity from this argument.

"It doesn't matter," she shouted. "I got out unharmed. And all without your help, might I add."

"You brought it up!" he waved his arm wildly, completely past the point of reason. They were shouting now, standing almost toe to toe in the middle of the kitchen. Her eyes bore into his, defiance burning in her eyes as she stared him down. Finally his shoulders sagged and he took a step back. He shook his head and turned around, his long strides taking him to the front door before she could even make it to the hallway. His hand was on the doorknob when her voice broke the thick silence.

"Where are you going?" His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white, an acidic retort on his lips, until he registered her tone. It wasn't the angry accusation he'd walked into, and if he turned around he was sure he'd seen confusion and fear in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the door open and stepped onto the porch.

"Out," he replied quietly, shutting the door firmly behind him. The cold air hit him in the face, cooling his anger instantly as he glared into the dimly lit street. He shoved his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys, and as they jangled loudly in the crisp night air he stopped halfway to the car. He looked down at his hand, at the small golden key nestled safely between his car key and his house key. It was a reminder, he knew, of all they'd left behind. But it was also a reminder to cherish what they had while they had it. He felt his heart pounding in his chest at they thought of Rose standing on the other side of their front door alone. He knew in his solitary heart that he could no more leave Rose alone than sever his own arm, and the latter would probably be less painful.

Taking a deep breath, he replayed the last ten minutes over in his head, wincing at their mutual stubbornness. Rose, he knew, came by hers honestly; Jackie Tyler could out-argue even the most savvy lawyer if she was in the right mind to do it. Heap the infamous Donna Noble temper on top of that, and it was no wonder they'd devolved into a shouting match. His feet were carrying up back to the porch before he could even change his mind, and he eased the door open with his apology already on his lips.

It caught in his throat as he took in Rose's form, curled up against the wall of the foyer with her head buried in her knees. He could tell even in the dark hallway that she was crying, and the rest of his anger dissipated immediately. He closed the door and rushed to her, falling to his knees at her side. He reached out a hand, not sure if she would accept comfort from him. But the moment his warm hand made contact with her shoulder she was in his arms, sobbing against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she wept, and he rubbed her back consolingly. Settling back against the wall, he pulled her into his lap and cradled her as she cried.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered. Her tears finally subsided but they remained sitting in the dark hallway, content on just being with one another. Finally, after almost ten minutes of silence John took a deep breath. "Rose, I'm sorry."

"Already said that," she chuckled, lifting her head to smile at him. He smiled back, glad to finally see it back on her face, but his fell almost immediately.

"No, Rose. I'm sorry that I walked out like that. You have to know that there is nothing in this universe that means more to me than you. I couldn't make it five steps before I felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest." A breath hitched in her chest, and he pulled her even tighter against him. "I love you _so_ much, Rose. I would be lost without you." She laid her head back on his chest, kissing the hollow of his throat tenderly as she inhaled deeply.

"You're forgiven," she told him, "if I am as well." He chuckled then, and she felt it reverberate through his chest into hers.

"Rose, I couldn't stay mad at you if I tried." Her hand snaked up behind his head and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Lifting herself up, she kissed his jaw and smiled at him coyly.

"Do you know the best thing about having a domestic, John?" His brow furrowed as he stared at her, wondering about her odd choice of words. Her mouth moved to his ear as she lifted one leg over his waist, effectively straddling him and trapping him against the wall. "Make up sex."


	14. First Proposal

I'm sure the title of this chapter will have some people squeeing.

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><p>FIRST PROPOSAL<p>

_"Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be." - Robert Browning_

John rolled over in his sleep, reaching out blindly for the warm body that rested next to him. His fingers grasped air, and he blinked blearily as he looked at the clock.

"6:45?" he whispered to himself, rubbing his tired eyes as he sat up. On a work day he'd normally be up and moving about, but today was Sunday and it was his and Rose's official "we're staying in bed till noon" day. The en suite was dark, but as he turned his head toward the door he saw a crack of light peeking under from the main room. Clad in the boxers he'd opened Christmas morning, he shuffled to the door and went in search of Rose.

The kitchen light was on, and he could hear Rose's hushed tones from the hallway. Something about her tone made him slow down his pace, his curiosity at her odd behavior overriding his common sense.

"…not sure how to tell him." His heart rate quickened, his idle curiosity spiking into something much more acute. Was Rose hiding something from him? He thought back over the last few days, trying to remember anything about her behavior that would clue him in. She had picked at her dinner last night, not really consuming much, but he'd seen her eat a rather hearty lunch so he hadn't thought much of it. Was she sick? If it were just the flu she wouldn't hesitate to let him know so he could wait hand and foot upon her. But if it were more serious she might wait to tell him. But then who was on the other end of the phone conversation? Who did Rose trust more than him?

"I know, Mum. I'm just not sure how he'll take it." Take what? Obviously whatever it was, Rose had already confided in Jackie. His frustration began to mount as his imagination began running wild. "I've always thought it'd be me and him forever. I didn't expect this at all." He was more certain than ever that Rose had fallen ill and was only waiting until the right moment to tell him. "He does not overreact, Mum. He's just...enthusiastic." John scowled in the darkness at Jackie's barb. He did have a tendency to become excitable about certain things, but he was positive that whatever horrible illness Rose had been struck with wasn't going to excite him. He would have to take time off work, maybe even resign from the school while he researched and experimented. Pete would cover any expenses, he was sure, and he could probably even use the facilities at Torchwood as long as he cured Rose.

"I know, Mum, but look at it this way. You're gonna be the best gran this baby could hope for."

John's already tense muscles seized at the word baby and he crashed back into the wall with a resounding thud. A chair scraped across the kitchen floor and he knew Rose was walking toward the hall, but he was in such a state of shock that he couldn't move. Rose's sleep-tousled head poked around the corner, and she smirked at his vacant expression.

"Mum, I have to go. John's been eavesdropping again and I think he's about to have a coronary." Rose stared at John as her mother replied, then quickly thrust the phone in his direction. "She wants to talk to you." He seemed to snap out of his trance, though his hands were shaking as he grasped the phone and pulled it to his ear.

"Now you listen to me," Jackie was already in full rant mode, but John could do nothing but nod as she spoke. Her words washed over him absently, though he caught a few choice words like "proper" and "cherish" and something about making an honest woman of Rose. Hearing the last bit clearly, Rose flushed and snatched the phone from John's hand.

"That's enough, Mum. I'll call you later." She hung up and dropped her hand limply to her side, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she watched John warily. "You alright?" He nodded mutely, still too stunned to form a coherent thought. His silence was unnerving, but quite so unnerving as his stillness. In all her years of knowing him, he'd never been as motionless as he was now. "Are you sure you're -"

"A baby?" he interrupted her, having finally found his voice. She let out a slow breath and nodded, still trying to gauge his response. "We having a - a - a baby? Wha...Ho...When? I think I need to sit down." He slumped against the wall, sliding down to the carpet in a boneless heap. She dropped next to him, laying her hand on his knee as she took in his pale skin and shaky hands.

"I've been feeling off for a couple of weeks now. Nothing major; loss of appetite, mild nausea. I thought it was from job stress, but even after taking all last week off I still felt sick. Yesterday, I threw up just after I got to work, so I went down to medical to get checked out."

"And you're...that is to say we're...and we're gonna be..." Normally she would be doubled over with laughter at his inability to form a complete sentence, but she settled for a small smile as she reached for his hand.

"Yes, John. I'm pregnant, and we're having a baby." The enormity of those words hung in the air between them, and seconds ticked by as he processed everything. Suddenly a grin split his face so wide she wondered if he could taste his ears. His free hand shot forward, pressing against her abdomen as he rolled to his knees. Their eyes locked, and she could see tears brimming in his brown irises.

"A baby..." he whispered. He suddenly switched from awed to anxious in the blink of an eye. "How are you feeling now? Are you nauseous? I can make you something…tea, or maybe just a hot water with lemon." He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up gently. He guided her back into their bedroom and very nearly pushed her into the bed. He fluffed her pillow and laid the comforter over her legs. "Stay here, don't exert yourself. I'll be right back." With a quick kiss to her forehead he was gone, dashing out with a mad look in his eyes. She laughed at his antics and shook her head.

"Mum was right."

She barely resisted the urge to get out of bed when she heard a crash from the kitchen, but his following assurance that was okay was so adorable that she forced herself to stay put. Moments later he elbowed the door open and presented her with a tray. On it lay two pieces of toast – lightly buttered – a banana freshly peeled and a mug of warm tea.

"It's ginger root," he said with a goofy grin. "Red raspberry is the best, really, but this is good for relieving nausea." She looked down at the tray with an amused gleam in her eye.

"Okay, breathe," she joked, noting how he was now bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child in a toy store. "I am in for a rough 7 months." All the color in John's face drained and he looked heartbroken.

"You're already 2 months along? And I missed it? Rose!"

"Hey!" she laughed at his expression. "I missed it myself. I haven't been regular since I started taking birth control, so missing my cycle wasn't exactly a dead giveaway." John's expression morphed instantly from dejected to confused, but Rose cut him off. "I know, I asked the same question when the medic told me the news. Birth control isn't one hundred percent, and we have been rather…active lately." John flushed as he thought about the rather heated encounters they'd had as of late. "Guess your boys are just really good swimmers." He beamed at that and shuffled around to the other side of the bed.

"Superior biology, me," he boasted, sounding for all the world like his old self. Rose laughed at his obvious reference and snuggled under his arm as he nicked a piece of toast. She ate the other and even managed most of the tea as he gobbled down the banana in silence. After their early morning snack was done, John set the tray on the floor and pulled Rose against him.

"I still can't believe it," he whispered into her hair as she settled her head on his chest. "A baby." The sheer magnitude of what it meant hadn't fully hit him yet, and he was still in complete awe. His right hand strayed over her body and rested gently on her stomach as she sighed sleepily. "You should rest," he told her. "Got to be healthy and well for the little tyke to grow up properly." His own words bounced around in his head, spiraling off in directions he hadn't even meant to go. Rose hummed contentedly as he began absently stroking her abdomen, his mind occupied with other thoughts.

"Rose?"

"Hmm?"

"Should we get married?" She had almost been asleep, ready to discount whatever mad idea he'd conjured in favor of a few more hours' rest. But his question startled her into waking, and her eyes snapped open.

"What?" Her lead lifted, and she met his gaze with a questioning look.

"I mean…what with the baby and all. And have I mentioned how much I totally, completely, and unconditionally love you?" he added hastily at her hard look. It softened at his nervous rambling, and she lifted one hand to stroke the side of his face.

"Are you asking because of what Mum said?" He opened his mouth to tell her no, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and he loved her with every fiber of his being. But she knew that already, and they had been perfectly content with the status quo before this latest development. And if he were being honest, Jackie had painted some rather graphic images in his head if things didn't turn out exactly the way she had them planned.

"Well yes…and no," he replied finally. "You know I love you, Rose. I am yours forever, and we don't really need any sort of ceremony or official piece of paper telling us that. I get it." She nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with tears at his heartfelt words. "But on the other hand," he continued, "Rose, I love you so much. And it would make me so happy to be able to introduce you as my wife; to let the world know how absolutely incredibly lucky I am that you're spending the rest of your life with me." Tears were spilling over her cheeks as she turned over on her side, propping herself up so she could kiss him fully. He let out a surprised gasp as her lips collided with his own, but he quickly recovered and pressed back as they fought for control. When she finally pulled back she was grinning ear to ear, and he smiled back blissfully.

"Okay," she said, effectively interrupting whatever thought was going through his mind.

"Wha?" he blinked at her before it all caught up to him, and his eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Wait, seriously? Are you – I mean you want to –"

"You asked!" she poked his shoulder teasingly as he recovered from his second shock of the night. His hands shot up to frame her face, kissing her with as much passion as he could muster. She laughed against his lips as he kissed her, and he pulled back with an offended look.

"I'm trying to celebrate here…momentous day and all." She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder as she tried to get her laughter under control.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, finally regaining herself. "Sorry," she said again, taking a deep breath. "It's just…this is all completely mental."

"It is a bit surreal," he agreed, kissing her nose and causing her to giggle again before settling against him tiredly. He stroked her hair as she drifted off to sleep, but not before she heard his last words. "But if it wasn't fantastic, Rose, it wouldn't be ours."

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><p>This one was a bit hard to write. Hopefully I did it justice. The next chapter will be going into further detail on a topic which a few of you have already commented upon. I would like to state now, for the record, that I do attempt to stay within canon on most things. That having been said, with a universe as vast as Who, "canon" tends to encompass an array of contradictory information. So while I cannot promise to stick resolutely to factual canon, I can promise to endeavor to maintain the spirit of Who while attempting to shove certain elements into a story of my own making. And if this entire author's note is completely baffling, I apologize. It will become more clear when I post the next chapter. Which should be toward the end of the week. Hopefully.<p> 


	15. First Vacation

Okay, so hopefully this will explain a bit better the question some of you have posed about John and Rose's discussion in chapter 10. So this one is for _JackieMarieee_ and _Nitrostreak_. And I'd like to throw a shout out to _smoggylondonair_ for just being awesome.

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><p>FIRST VACATION<p>

"_Vacations are necessities, not luxuries." – Linda Bloom_

"I can't believe you called Dad and told him to give me two weeks off," Rose grumbled from the passenger seat. John just smiled broadly and shrugged one shoulder carelessly.

"I didn't so much _tell_ him as politely infer that too much stress wasn't good for you. He's the one who suggested a weekend getaway."

"And you picked _Scotland_?" He scoffed at her tone, though her words were tempered by the teasing gleam in her eye.

"I thought you might want to go back, seeing as how we were banished the first time." She laughed at that, remembering their Scottish adventure fondly.

"It was worth it, though," she amended. "I mean, how many people can say they've actually seen a werewolf?"

"Technically it was a lupine wavelength haemovariform, not a traditional werewolf," he corrected, and Rose rolled her eyes skyward as a solid case of déjà vu washed over her. There were times when John would do something so wholly _Doctor-ish_ that she would almost forget that she was living this life with him now. "Of course, this time I booked us to stay in a posh hotel in Edinburgh. A _very_ posh hotel." He fixed her with a smoldering look that brought her crashing back into reality with a beaming smile. She would always love the Doctor and the time she spent with him, but there was nothing about her life now she would change for the whole universe.

She reached across the center console and grabbed his free hand, squeezing it tenderly as she gazed out at the passing countryside. It was almost a seven hour trip from London to Edinburgh, and they'd only just passed Coventry. With five more hours ahead, she settled in for a quick nap as John hummed along with the radio.

She woke groggily when the car stopped, but John just leaned over and kissed her shoulder.

"Just stopping to refuel, love. Rest a bit more." He stepped out for a few moments, but in her half-asleep state she didn't even notice when he returned with a sandwich and two waters. They were on the road again before she sat up fully, rubbing her eyes and accepting the sandwich silently.

"Oh my God," she said around a mouthful, searching for anywhere to spit it out. John panicked and glanced over repeatedly, trying to keep his eyes on the road and on Rose simultaneously.

"What? What is it?" Rose managed to find a spare napkin folded into the door console and gagged slightly as she spit out the mush of food from her mouth.

"There are pickles on it," she told him plainly, holding the sandwich out for him to take. He grabbed it and took a big bite, humming contentedly as he chewed and swallowed.

"Yep," he agreed. "You like pickles, Rose."

"Nope, not anymore. Pickles are rubbish." He laughed and finished the sandwich, washing it down with half of his water before he settled both hands back on the wheel.

"This pregnancy thing sounds like regeneration. I mean, your body is drastically altered, you get a whole brand new person at the end, and all your tastes change. Just promise me you'll always like bananas, Rose." She whacked his arm and fixed him with a hard stare.

"What do you mean 'drastically altered?'" Her tone was mocking, but he was already floundering to recover before he could register her tease. His flustered look only caused her to burst out into giggles, which completely ruined whatever withering stare she'd managed before.

"Not funny, Rose." He tried to stare her down, but driving up M6 at seventy miles per hour was occupying most of his attention.

"You know," she said, keeping her tone light in order to counter the obviously heavy subject she was about to embark upon, "you're awfully flustered about this whole pregnancy thing, but you've been a dad before, yeah?" His lips pressed into a thin line and she knew that even now, in this part human body, that those memories were still painful. She thought he wouldn't answer, brush her off like he'd done so many times she'd tried to pry into that tough leather exterior he used to wear. But they'd both come so far since those days, and most of the journey had been weathered together, so he took a deep breath and flicked his eyes over to hers for an instant.

"The Doctor had almost ten children by the time he fled Gallifrey," John answered, hoping that by distancing himself from the events that he could lessen the pain. But he could recall all of their faces so vividly - their smiles, their personalities, their quirks - that the charade ended instantly. Rose seemed to understand and squeezed his hand tighter, silently letting him know that he didn't have to open this wound for her but she would be willing to listen if he chose to share it with her.

"I told you before that Time Lords don't - didn't - procreate the way humans do." She nodded, remembering a long ago conversation during a hushed night. "Well, that wasn't always true. Long ago, long before The Last Great Time War and all the destruction, Gallifreyans fell in love, married, had children just as humans do. Those children grew up just like humans and - in the case of a select few - they were taken to the Academy when they turned 8 years old." He smiled briefly, and she wondered if he was remembering his time spent learning and living as just another Gallifreyan child. She had noticed straight away that he hadn't yet referred to himself at all, probably trying to separate himself from the painful memories.

"I bet you were a cute kid," she said softly, and he smiled at her.

"My mother thought so," he returned, and she could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "Anyway, children grew up, were educated, but only those who graduated from the Academy became Time Lords."

"But I thought -?" He squeezed her hand to interrupt, letting her know he'd explain it all.

"In the my fourth incarnation I was sent back in time." He had given up all pretense of separation and focused now on a story he had never uttered aloud. "I was supposed to subvert the creation of the Daleks, or at least modify it so they weren't quite so aggressive. But I failed, and that sparked events that led to the Last Great Time War." It was a burden he still carried on his shoulders even now. Would his people still be alive if he'd succeeded? Or would something else have taken the Daleks' place? The entire War had been time locked, so even as the last of the Time Lords it had been impossible to work out all the probablities.

"What happened to the children?" Rose's voice brought him back to Earth, and he sank back into his seat a little. This part of the story always made him sad, and his voice was low as he continued.

"The Council decreed that every citizen would be needed to counter the Daleks. Everyone was trained, everyone was molded into a Time Lord." He sneered lightly, an expression that shocked her. She had never before seen outright disgust on his face, and for it to be because of his own people made her heart break a little. "Instead of people falling in love, an appointed council arranged marriages in order to combine the most beneficial genetic combinations. My chapter, Prydon, became a factory for scientists and scholars, teachers who would mold the rest of society. Instead of having children, couples were required to submit DNA for looming, which created fully mature Gallifreyans, ready to become Time Lords."

"No more children." It was a statement rather than a question, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. "I'm so sorry, John."

"They may not have been born from a womb, but they were still my children." His voice was thick, and she knew he was fighting with everything he had to keep the tears from falling. She reached over his arm and pressed a button on the dash, and the blinkers began flashing as John maneuvered the vehicle to the shoulder at her wordless command. Once stopped, Rose wrapped her arms around him and let him cry into her shoulder. He clung to her for a few moments, their positions awkward and uncomfortable. But she wasn't going to let him go before he was ready, and she forced herself to ignore the discomfort in her back.

"Sorry," he pulled back and wiped his face hurriedly. "This is a great way to start vacation," he grumbled.

"Hey," she stroked the side of his face tenderly. "Don't ever be sorry for how you feel," she told him, recalling his words to her those rocky days after returning from Bad Wolf Bay. "Come on, switch with me. I need a stretch and you could stand to rest a bit." He started to protest, but Rose's stare was so reminiscent of Jackie Tyler that he cowed instantly. He met her around the back of a car, stealing a kiss as she tried to slip past him. He gripped her hips possessively as he poured his gratitude and love into the kiss. They were so lost in each other that only the honk of a passing car jolted them apart. With a sly grin, he kissed her quickly once more and parted from her. He slid into the passenger seat as she buckled in.

"Ready?"

"Yep." He grinned at her, the shadows that had haunted his face disappearing with the expression. She shifted into gear and pulled out onto the road before reaching over and lacing her fingers through his. He was by no means completely healed, but she hoped that he at least understood that he could talk to her, that she wanted him to talk to her.

An hour outside Ediburgh John took over, and when they pulled up to the hotel Rose gasped in surprise.

"The Balmoral? John, how did you –?" They had already discussed a savings plan to accommodate their newest addition, and she knew that even with their combined salaries they couldn't afford this right now.

"No worries," he assured her quickly. "Your parents booked this before I could talk them out of it. And you know how your mother gets," he added snidely. Rose looked affronted for a moment before turning her eyes to the grand building before her.

The Victorian hotel looked humbling stretched out across the block. Its stone balconies had long since been stripped, but the clock tower still stood prominently above the square, signaling the time for the passengers milling about at the adjacent train station. Its baronial influence was evident in the crenelated battlements and lancet windows, and the entire edifice echoed the imperial influence of the castle that heralded its name some hundred miles away.

"John this is…" Rose continued to stare at the awe-inspiring sight before her, and when he stepped up beside her she couldn't help but throw her arms around his neck.

"Well, your parents did most of the work, but I'll happily reap the benefits." With a cheeky grin he directed her toward the front door where he passed his car keys to the valet standing at attention near the door.

"Very good, Mr. Smith. I will have your bags delivered to your room. Will you and Miss Tyler require anything further?" John peered at the boy's nametag and shook his head.

"No, thank you, Ewan." The boy nodded once before hopping into the passenger seat and driving away. Rose watched for a moment, still too shocked to speak as John pulled her to the door. An elderly man with a kind smile opened the door, and Rose's heart skipped a beat as the interior was revealed to her.

A single, elegant chandelier hung just inside the door, illuminating the reception area. A concierge was ready and waiting to assist them, greeting them with a welcoming smile.

"Good afternoon," he spoke with a native lilt that reminded Rose of a place not so far away but oh so long ago. "I will be assisting you in getting settled. My name is Malcolm Carmichael, and I will be your personal servicer during your entire stay. Now, Mr. Smith, Miss Tyler, would you like a tour or would you like to go straight to your room?" John looked over at Rose and frowned a bit; she hadn't slept much on the trip and she was no doubt tired from the emotional tide they'd just navigated.

"I think our room, if you don't mind," he answered. "I'm a bit tired from the trip." Rose shot him a grateful look and he smiled softly at her.

"Of course!" Malcolm gestured for them to follow, and Rose slipped her hand into John's as they walked toward the elevators. "The room that was reserved for you is one of our premiere rooms, with an absolutely splendid view. I won't spoil it, but I guarantee you won't be disappointed." He pressed the button for the topmost floor and began to talk at length about the services available to them. Rose's head began to spin at the mention of spas, restaurants, and pools as she tried not to think about how much this had cost her parents.

Malcolm led them down the corridor to one of the farthest rooms, showing them how to operate their key cards as he opened the door. He stood back as John and Rose took their first steps into the luxurious space, each standing in awe of its beauty.

A single double bed sat against the left wall, covered in a simple duvet with soft pastel colors striped across. An en suite sat to the right with a double vanity sink, and Rose caught a glimpse of a large clawfoot tub through the partially opened door. Malcolm slipped past them, stopping at the closed drapes as he turned around.

"Now for the best part," he touted, grasping the curtains and throwing them back with a flourish. Rose gasped as the majesty of Edinburgh Castle filled her vision. From their room, they had a perfect view of the castle atop the hill, sitting regally over the bustling city below. Rose had seen the magnificent edifice as they'd driven to the hotel, but seeing it framed in her picture window was breathtaking.

"It's wonderful," she whispered, squeezing John's hand. He smiled at her, reveling in her happiness as he watched the last of her previous worry wash away. Malcolm seemed to sense the private moment and quietly slipped back toward the door.

"I will be available until ten o'clock this evening. Should you need anything after that, the front desk will be more than happy to assist you. I will arrive tomorrow precisely at eight o'clock, so please do not hesitate to call for me should you need directions or suggestions for local entertainment. Good afternoon." John tipped the man generously as he shut the door, leaving him and Rose alone in the elegant suite.

He'd barely turned around when Rose was in his arms again, and he held her against him like a cherished jewel. They stood like that for a few moments just enjoying the closeness and the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. Finally, when Rose yawned against his chest, he chuckled and pushed her gently toward the bed.

She sat down without protest, the weariness of the last few hours finally catching up to her. He knelt down to pull her shoes off, tossing them under the bed as she laid down on top of the comforter. He pulled the small quilt from the foot of the bed and draped it over her, kissing her forehead softly as he tucked her in.

"Rest a bit, Rose. I'll wake you up in a bit for supper." A soft knock on the door heralded the arrival of their bags, and John tipped Ewan as the boy set them down.

"Thank you sir. Enjoy your stay!" He waved once more as John closed the door.

Rose was asleep by the time he finished, and he smiled tenderly at her as he began to settle them in. As she continued to sleep, he researched every possible venue they might want to see, as well as some he knew only Rose would love. Shopping was a must, he knew, so he penned a few hotspots onto the notepad at the desk. He wanted everything to be perfect for her, and after a while he stopped to simply watch her sleep.

A sense of peace settled over him, and he knew from experience that it had everything to do with the girl napping just meters away. Unable to stay away from her a moment longer, he set the alarm on his phone, kicked his trainers off, and settled in behind her, draping his arm around her waist to pull her against him. She let out a sleepy, contented sigh as he kissed her neck, joining her in slumber just moments later.


	16. First Loss

First of all, I'm going to apologize for the sheer amount of angst in this chapter. But it must happen to set up future events.

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><p>FIRST LOSS<p>

"_For some moments in life, there are no words." – David Seltzer_

Rose had been back from vacation nearly a week when the discomfort started. She had been working almost non-stop since she got back, and the throbbing her lower back only served to sour her already dark mood. Pete had informed her upon returning that she was no longer allowed out in the field due to her condition, so he'd heaved the load of day to day activities and organization of the staff upon her. The workload wasn't overly much, and Rose actually found that she enjoyed learning about the inner workings of Torchwood. But if one more person offered to carry a stack of folders for her or asked her inane questions about her condition, she would not be responsible for her actions.

Finally, around six, she finished a report she'd started two hours prior. She sent a quick text to John to let him know she was on her way home and grabbed her coat and keys. She bid goodbye to the night guard and made her way to the stairs. She almost made it to the bottom when the pain seized her and she doubled over, clutching at the railing for support. Her cry alerted the patrolling guard below, and she felt a warm hand gripping her free arm as she gritted her teeth against the pain.

"Miss Tyler, are you alright?" Rose took a deep breath and straightened up, but immediately doubled over again. The guard wrapped an arm around her waist, sliding her left arm over his shoulder as he barked an order into his radio. Red haze filled her vision, and she was only vaguely aware of more people as she was bustled down dimmed corridors. Warmth cascaded down her body and she stumbled. Hands hooked under her knees as another body came to support her. Her head lolled to someone's shoulder as they carried her into a brightly lit room.

Then the darkness took her.

Her first sensation upon waking was the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears. She tried to move her arms, but her own body wouldn't respond to her commands. The fog began to lift, and the pulsing sound that filled her ears dulled, and she could make out other sounds. A steady beeping gradually grew louder, and she became aware of more. A pressure settled over her left hand, though it was the only thing she could feel, and her eyes darted uselessly behind closed eyelids.

Hushed whispers became harsh, and Rose put all her conscious effort into moving her head. Finally her muscles responded, and her head tilted to the left. Cool fingers brushed her hair away, and she could finally hear clearly.

"_Rose_." It was a plea, repeated over and over by a voice she had moved the heavens to hear again. Gathering all of her strength, she willed her eyes to open.

She squinted against the bright light, and the blurs that moved around her slowly came into focus. She registered John's face at first, though she hardly recognized him. He was dressed in the very suit he'd set off for work in that morning, but his face was haggard and aged as if he'd lived fifty lifetimes since she'd last seen him. Turning her head slightly, she could make out her dad speaking quietly with a Torchwood medic in the corner. The pressure on her left hand increased, and she glanced down to find it completely encased in John's grip. He squeezed again, and even though her eyes registered the motion she felt no change.

"Rose?" John spoke again, louder than before to alert the physician. Pete strode quickly to stand behind John as the doctor moved around to her other side.

"The medication is probably making you feel very strange," he told her smoothly. "Just relax and let it do its job. You'll feel better in the morning." She tried to take a breath, to ask what had happened, but her lungs and throat wouldn't cooperate. Instead she turned pleading eyes back to John, willing him to understand what she needed. He squeezed her hand again, bringing his free one up to stroke her face tenderly. She wished she could feel it.

"Just…just rest for now, Rose." His throat closed over violently, and he had to swallow a few times to continue. She found sorrow and pain in his eyes, and at once she could feel again. Panic overwhelmed her, and her heart rate spiraled upward erratically.

"Rose, you need to calm yourself," the doctor spoke in even tones. "Don't overexcite yourself too early; you're not completely stable just yet." Her eyes darted back and forth, demanding answers where her mouth could not. John settled a hand on her forehead, anchoring her in the turbulent storm of her emotions. Taking a few deep breaths, she managed to calm her racing heart. Pete looked on with watchful eyes, but even silhouetted against the fluorescent glare of the lights behind him she could see the sadness etched on his face.

"Rest, love," he said over John's shoulder. "We'll be here when you wake up." Rose felt a pinch on her right arm, and she shot a hard glare at the treacherous doctor who'd injected her.

"Just a mild sedative," he told her. "Sleep, Miss Tyler. Your body needs to recover." A thousand questions raced through her mind, but the more she thought the less she recalled. Finally, when she could fight it no longer, her eyes slipped mercifully closed once again.

When she awoke again she was faring better, though there was a still a dull ache in her stomach. John was still there, slumped over in his chair with his chin on his chest. He snored lightly as he took shallow breaths, and his hand was still lying atop hers. The steady beep of the heart monitor increased as she woke fully, and the increased tempo snapped John to attention blearily.

"Oh," he rubbed his face tiredly as his eyes connected with hers. "You're awake. I'll go get the doctor." He stood to stretch but her own fingers caught his, wrapping around them and pulling him back.

"What happened?" Her mouth was parched and her voice cracked as she tried to articulate her question, but it came out half-whispered and garbled. John seemed to understand, but instead of the reassuring smile she expected to see on his face she only found sorrow.

"It's…it's best if I let the doctor explain," he tried, stepping toward the call button. Before she could stop him he pressed it, and moments later Dr. Tannard came through the door with a professional smile.

"Good morning, Miss Tyler," he greeted. "How are you feeling?" Rose swallowed a few times to get some moisture in her mouth before answering with a snide remark.

"Like a terminal patient," she shot back. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?" The last question was directed at John, who merely shook his head and sank back down into the chair. Tannard took over as he checked her monitors.

"Mr. Smith has been here since yesterday evening when you collapsed. Do you remember that?" Her eyes darted from his, trying to recall the events that led her here. She remembered saying good night to the guard, then walking toward the exit; after that there was nothing. Her brain was still fuzzy from the sedative, and her confusion was evident on her face.

"You collapsed in the front hall, and two of the guards escorted you here. Shortly after that you blacked out." Flashes of memory came back to her, and she remembered the agony that had seared through her abdomen. Almost absently, her free hand settled over her stomach; it was a move that did not go unnoticed by either man. They shared a look over her, and that sick feeling that had been growing blossomed into full dread.

"What about…what happened to…" She found herself unable to fully articulate the question she most desperately needed the answer to, but as Dr. Tannard's compassionate gaze fell upon hers she knew. "No…"

"I am sorry, Miss Tyler. There was a complication, and fetus was aborted." A strangled cry escaped her lips as John's hand tightened on her own. She heard his own sob stifle in his throat, and she knew he was trying to be strong for her.

"Don't say that," she hissed at the doctor. "Don't tell me that."

Tannard's eyes held nothing but understanding as he adjusted one final measurement on her IV. He looked over her at John and shared a quick, silent conversation. With a nod he exited the room, leaving Rose and John alone in the oppressive silence. Almost immediately, John began stammering on about how she should be feeling, about how it wasn't her fault, about how there was nothing she could have done. But Rose wasn't listening to any of it; her mind was reeling with shock and she had nothing left to devote to paying attention to his platitudes.

"Stop," she whispered, slipping her hands from his. "Just…don't." He looked heartbroken, and it hit her that he was probably taking this as hard as she was. Her resolve crumbled and he shot forward like a bolt, wrapping her body against his as she sobbed into his chest. She could feel his own tears soaking the gown she'd been dressed in, and for several long moments they simply held each other and cried.

"Doctor Tannard said he wanted to keep you here for the rest of the day, but you should be able to go home this evening." John tried to keep his tone as normal as possible, but he couldn't hide the raw pain in his eyes. Rose nodded numbly, settling back heavily into the pillow. Her eyes fell closed as exhaustion took over her, and she heard John's soft command to rest even as she slipped under.

Her mother's voice woke her, and Rose had a sudden, overwhelming need to be in the comfort of the woman's arms. Her eyes opened quickly, and Jackie smiled sadly down at her. Without a word Jackie enveloped her daughter in a hug, rocking her and stroking her hair as if she were child woken by a nightmare. Rose felt like weeping again, and she was surprised by her own capacity for grief. She had thought all her tears had been spent earlier, but being in her mother's embrace brought a wave of emotion that she couldn't contain.

"It's alright, Rose. Just let it out, honey. I've got you." Permission seemed to be all she needed, and Rose let loose another torrent of tears that soaked her face and her mother's jumper. Ten minutes seemed like hours as they held tightly to each other and cried until Rose was finally spent. Jackie wiped her tears with a handkerchief and patted her hand.

"They're discharging you now," she said quickly, "and I've told Pete that you'll be staying at the house until you recover." Rose winced at the term and shook her head.

"No, Mum, I..." she took a deep breath and set her jaw firmly. "I just want to go home." Jackie looked heartbroken for a moment before accepting Rose's decision.

"Alright, but I want you to promise me that you'll ring if you need anything." Rose offered her Mum a smile and nodded.

"I promise, Mum." John entered with Pete moments later, and Rose found herself enveloped in another hug. Pete had become everything she'd ever dreamed of in a father, and she found herself relying more and more on his steadfast support and love. Pete kissed her forehead lovingly, a silent agreement passing between them to phone if she needed him. Doctor Tannard unhooked her from the monitors, and she shot John a grateful look as he passed her a duffel full of her most comfortable clothes. She stepped into the bathroom alone, determined to prove to her family that she was healing, that she could make it through this.

The ride home was silent with John behind the wheel, one hand firmly gripping hers as he drove. When they pulled into the driveway she let go, stepping out of the car before he could race around to get her door. He frowned slightly but let it go; he could only guess what she was feeling right now and he thought the best course would be to give her space and let her sort it all out. But as they stepped into the house, Rose was hit with another wave of grief and she nearly collapsed against the frame. John's arm came around her and he supported her all the way to the bedroom. He laid her down on their bed, pulling her shoes off quickly and tucking her underneath the duvet.

"Do you need anything, Rose?" She shot him a look, one that promised an acidic retort, but none came. Instead, she saw her own pain mirrored in his face, in the defeated set of his shoulders, in the sorrowful look in his eyes. She reached out her hand to him, not at all surprised when he gripped it with more force than usual. She tugged once and her meaning was clear. He kicked off his shoes quickly, tossing his jacket over the chair as he climbed in behind her.

For a few moments they said nothing, each trying to come to terms with something so terrible, so heart-rending that words could not possibly describe. But after that, after Rose let the guilt and the shame and the helplessness settle into her soul, she knew they had to talk.

"Why?" It was a quiet question, and at first he didn't answer. His thoughts were much the same; why did this have to happen? Hadn't the universe punished them enough? Were they just destined for this life of ill fortune and maltempered fate? When would it be enough for them to simply live happily? But as the silence stretched on and Rose repeated the question, he realized it wasn't rhetorical. He had really hoped to save this conversation for another time, but any attempts he made to forestall it was met with unwavering insistence.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I..." his throat closed around the words he so desperately wanted to say, but he forced them out anyway. "It's my fault." Immediately she turned over to face him, grabbing his chin in a determined grip.

"No," she told him firmly. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault," even as she said it, she knew she didn't fully believe it. But she was determined to keep him from the ritualistic self-blame that the Doctor was oh so famous for. "It's just...it's just one of those things." John smiled at her attempt to comfort him, but he carefully took her hand from his face and kissed her fingers.

"No, Rose, you don't understand...this _is_ my fault. My DNA. My genes." Her brow wrinkled in confusion, and he smoothed them with a gentle brush of his fingers.

"I don't understand." He took a deep breath and launched into a simplified explanation, hoping he could make it all the way through without breaking down.

"Offspring get half of their genetic makeup from each parent," he began, keeping it clinical for now, unsure how he would maintain his composure otherwise. "When humans create sperm and egg cells, your pairs of chromosomes split to allow for this. The problem is me, Rose. The metacrisis gave me 46 chromosomes, just like you, but I retained the Time Lord's method of splitting those chromosomes. The result was..." His eyes fell away from hers, but her gentle insistence pulled him back to her gaze.

"Tell me."

"During pregnancy, your body checks on the development of the fetus. Because of…because of me, our child had more chromosomes than it should have. It wasn't…viable." Her heart broke as he shouldered such guilt, and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

"You couldn't have known," she soothed, even as her own tears fell with his.

"Rose, I'm so, so sorry…" Her heart clenched at the familiar words, and she braced herself for his confession. "This means we can't…we'll never be able to…" He shut his eyes tightly, as if simply wishing for this pain to disappear would be enough. He felt Rose's arms slip around him as she buried her head in his chest and cried with him.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the evening, but they never left the comforting embrace of each other's arms. Both knew harder days were coming when they would have to fake a smile and push past the pain. Rose's physical recovery would be through in a matter of days, and soon they would need to discuss plans for their future. Tomorrow they could begin to heal, to try and move past it all and push forward. But for now they were content to lie together on their bed, cut off from the rest of the world for a little while longer.

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><p>This was very difficult for me to write not because of the subject matter, but because of my own ignorance. I've done quite a bit of research for this chapter, but the one thing I could never fully understand was the emotional side, the psychological side. I do not have children, nor have I ever been pregnant, so this is completely foreign to me. If you have experienced this, or know someone who has, then I apologize sincerely for anything I may have gotten wrong. I do understand that everyone deals with things in their own way, and I have tried to portray that with these characters. But there are some things that seemed universal as I read accounts and medical information and countless testimonials. I tried to get most of those things in this chapter, but having no first (or even second) hand experience made this chapter the most difficult so far.<p>

If, by some chance, there is a brave soul out there who has any insight or wishes to better this chapter with advice or knowledge, my inbox is ready and waiting. Rest assured anonymity will be guaranteed, unless otherwise stated. And thank you.


	17. First Anniversary

Sorry this is so late. Plot bunnies have been running rampant in my head, forcing me to write two other stories - one of them is a doozie. But I appeased them long enough to finish this chapter. Enjoy.

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><p>FIRST ANNIVERSARY<p>

"_An anniversary is a time to celebrate the joys of today, the memories of yesterday, and the hopes of tomorrow." – Author Unknown_

John waved at Mike Sheffield as he made the last turn on their street. The elderly man and his wife had been a great source of comfort for them these past few weeks. Though they had never made an official announcement about the baby, somehow Janice had known. And when Rose had answered the door one afternoon in pajamas and a tear-soaked face, the motherly woman had dropped the Tupperware she'd toted over and pulled the younger woman into a crushing hug. So every day for the past three weeks Janice kept Rose company at home while John went back to work, and the women had bonded as closely as grandmother and grandchild. After next week, however, Rose was due back at Torchwood for her final checkup and evaluation for her reinstatement.

John parked the car and lifted the small bundle from the passenger seat before stepping out. The front door was already unlocked, and he greeted the ladies with a charming smile as he kicked it closed behind him.

"What's that then?" Rose stood from the sofa and moved to greet him properly.

"It's a fruit basket," he grinned, "full of bananas, of course, because my students know how much I love them." Rose laughed at the absurd amount of bananas and took it from him quickly. Janice had risen as well, and approached the couple with an excited gleam in her eye.

"Oh, I could bake a wonderful loaf of banana bread. Would you mind? I'll make one for the two of you, of course, but Danny loves banana bread." Rose held it out to her, silencing John's meager protest with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, not even you could eat all of these before they spoil. Go on, Janice." Janice plucked a ripe bunch from the basket and tucked them under her arm.

"Rose, dear, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye John."

"Bye Janice," he returned, already peeling his first banana of the evening as Rose took the rest to the kitchen. "I've got something else for you," he told her slyly, his lips curving into a half-smile as curiosity overtook her.

"What is it?" She set the basket down and rushed back over to him, but he held up a finger as he finished off the banana.

"It's in the car," he told her, tossing the peel onto the counter, "come with me." He held out his hand, his half-smile blossoming into a full one as she wrapped her smaller fingers around his own. He pulled her along with him, happy that his plan was going well so far. When they reached the car he feigned a disappoint glare. "I must have left it at work. Come on, it won't take a moment to go and get it." He ushered her toward the passenger seat, unsurprised when she resisted. She'd hardly left the house in the past three weeks, only going out twice with Jackie when the woman had very nearly peeled the paint from the walls with her ranting. Despite that, though, John knew Rose was healing from the trauma, and would continue to do so for some time now.

"How about I just stay here and you go fetch it?" She planted her heels to stop her movement, and he stopped just beside her.

"Fetch it? What am I, some Labrador pup you can just order about?" This was going so well, he had to fight to keep himself from grinning madly.

"That's right," she teased back. "I mean, look at you. You're big, loveable, you lick everything that comes in front of you, and you always come when I call!" He scoffed at her in indignation, reaching out to wrap his arms about her waist. She shrieked in delight when his fingers tickled her ribs, and her arms came up to try and pry herself away from him. He continued his attack, releasing his hold only when she complained of her side hurting from laughter.

"That'll teach you to compare me to some dog," he groused, not at all upset but holding back an enormous grin.

"You're right," she conceded with a wicked gleam in her eye, "dogs are cuter." His cry of outrage was masked by her laughter as he once again reached out for her. She bolted from his grasp, setting him on a chase around the car as she tried to keep away. He was faster than she was, however, and she soon found herself pinned against the passenger door, smiling and out of breath.

"Gotcha," he whispered across her ear, pressing his lithe body against hers. "And now for my prize." He kissed her thoroughly, pleased when she began kissing him back. He'd read every book on miscarriages he could get his hands on, and most of them had warned about a decreased interest in intimacy. But passion had never been a problem before, and though they hadn't actually had sex since she'd lost the baby, Rose had never shied away from his attentions.

After a few moments, Rose slowed the kiss and pulled away from him with a contented smile on her face. "Are you going to take me to my surprise or should I head back inside?" In one swift movement, John pulled her away from the door, opened it, and guided her into the seat. She laughed as he very nearly hopped over the hood to get to the driver's seat, buckling in as he started the engine and drove away.

He was very nearly vibrating in his seat, and Rose hid a smile as she wondered where they were going. She knew better than to believe his little fib about leaving it at school; he'd remembered his fruit basket, and she was fairly certain she ranked somewhere above a bunch of bananas. Her suspicions were confirmed when they passed the turn to the school, and he shot her a sidelong look hesitantly. She feigned obliviousness as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting him lead her wherever he wanted. It was a familiar tune, she mused, and her smile spread as she felt him grip her right hand across the center console.

"Here we are," he said softly, and she opened her eyes. His tone told her she hadn't fooled him with her little ploy, but his smile told her he appreciated the gesture. Rose smiled back and stepped out of the car, her mind trying to make sense of their destination.

"What - ?" He shut his door and dashed to her side, his expression equal parts excitement and caution.

"Do you know what today is, Rose?" She took a breath and nodded; even if she hadn't been keeping rigorous track, there was no way she'd forget the importance of today. "One year ago, we were left standing together on that beach. And while I know this isn't the forever you had planned while we were traveling, I want you to know that there is nothing in all of the known - and unknown - universes that I cherish more than you." She threw her arms around his neck, tears soaking his collar even as she tried to force them back.

"I love you, too," she whispered against his shoulder. He knew she felt the same as he did - she'd told him so on numerous occasions - but every time she said those words his heart leaped with joy. "But I don't understand,"she pulled back and looked at the building behind them. "Why are we at the RSPCA?" His loving expression morphed to barely contained glee in an instant, and she felt his fingers sift through the fine hair just above her ear as he bounced on his heels.

"I know that everything that's happened wasn't exactly how we wanted it to go," he told her seriously, "and I know we're both still healing. But I want to ask you a question, and I don't want you to give me an answer until you've really thought it through." She nodded her promise as he dropped his hands to grab hers.

"We can't...we might not be able to have a child," he said quietly, emotion thick in his voice. He saw her own expression fall and he took a breath to continue quickly. "But Rose, that doesn't mean we can't have a family. There are lots of kids out there who need parents, who need love and care and guidance. We can do that, Rose. We can give a child a home, a chance to learn, and grow, and become fantastic." He saw her eyes cut over his shoulder to the animal shelter behind him, and he could practically see the question in her eyes. He lifted her hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back of each one as he smiled at her. "But that process takes a long time - months, if we're lucky. But that doesn't mean we can't start that family right now. There are creatures in this building who have been victims of some of the worst life can offer, who are just looking for someone to love. What do you say?"

"You're serious?" She wasn't sure if she was questioning his proposal or getting a pet, but she found quickly that she'd accept an answer to either. He'd obviously put a lot of thought into his words, and even though he might seem impulsive at times she knew he didn't ever do anything without first thinking it through; he couldn't help it if his brain worked so much faster than everyone else's.

"Yes, of course I'm serious, Rose," he smiled. Knowing she needed time to process what he'd said, he opted for a joke to lighten the mood. "Just not a cat. I hate cats." She laughed with him as they recalled fond (and some not-so-fond) memories. "Mike told me that this is where they got Boomer." Rose nodded as she thought of the rather exuberant lab puppy that seemed to always follow their neighbor around.

"Well then, let's go." she grabbed his hand and pulled him along. They entered the shelter hand in hand, grinning as a young woman trotted up to them expectantly. She was wearing khakis and a polo shirt that marked her as an employee, but Rose could tell from her bouncing walk and her bright pink earrings that this girl was going to be chipper. She was not disappointed.

"Good afternoon! My name's Mindy. Are you here for your forever friend?" Rose and John exchanged a look before he took the lead.

"Why yes, Mindy, we are. We're looking for a puppy." Mindy's smile grew impossibly wide as she turned and gestured rather exuberantly for them to follow. Once her back was turned to them, Rose turned to John with an incredulous expression, but a slight shake of his head told her to get rid of her grin. She tried valiantly, but only managed to morph her amusement into what would have to pass for an excited smile.

They stepped through a set of double doors into a rather large room. Other than the doors they come through and an identical set on the opposite side of the room, every wall was stacked with kennels. Dogs of all shapes and sizes barked, whined, and howled. Some were lying quietly, but most of the dogs were skittering about their small spaces with eager expressions and wagging tails.

"Now, do you already know what breed you'd like?"

"No," Rose shook her head as she looked around. "There are so many..."

"Yes, there are," it was the first time Mindy's tone had been anything but bright, and Rose glanced over at the girl's sad expression. "Some people get pets before they're really ready for them, others don't spay or neuter their pets and we end up with the litters." Rose stuck her finger into a kennel with a small black fluff ball, and she was rewarded with a hesitant sniff from the tiny black nose. She laughed and pulled her finger back, looking around again.

"You mind if we just take a look around?" John smiled disarmingly at Mindy, and Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Some things didn't change, she thought. Mindy smiled back and nodded so vigorously Rose was sure her head would fall off.

"Absolutely! Just holler when you need me. My name's Mindy!" And she was gone. Rose stifled her laughter into John's shoulder, and he gave her a mock glare as she pulled back.

"She's not that bad," he defended weakly, but Rose just shoved him lightly.

"Says the man with the charming smile. Come on," she stepped away from him before he could respond - a tactic she'd learned early in their traveling to win an argument with the Doctor. They walked through the room looking at each puppy, discussing what they wanted.

"We have a spacious enough yard, so size really isn't an issue," John said.

"I'd like to keep it inside, though, so not too big." John nodded and mentally crossed off a few of the prospects. "Should be intelligent and playful, but not too excitable. I get enough of that with you."

"Oi!" he feigned offense for a moment before conceding the point; he could get rather enthusiastic at times. "I'd like to have something that could serve as protection should we need it, especially when you're home alone."

"I can hold my own, thank you very much," she poked him in the shoulder hard, and he yelped in pain. A few of the residents answered with their own chorus of yelps, and Rose laughed at his expression. "Serves you right," she told him, but let it go. The Doctor had always been rather protective of her; it wasn't fair to expect John to be any different.

"What about him?" She peered into a kennel set at eye level, surprised to find the resident inside staring right back. For a puppy he was massive, though the tag attached to his door indicated he was only six months old. His fur was a rich brown fading into black on his paws and muzzle, and his ears were pointed and alert as Rose surveyed him. He didn't bark or whine, but she could see his tail twitch as she poked her fingers through the grate. After a quick sniff, the shepherd licked her hand quickly, his pink tongue lapping at her fingers eagerly. Rose laughed and looked back at John with a knowing grin.

"Looks like we have a winner. Just like you; licks whatever comes near him," she joked, earning her a reproving glare.

"I don't lick everything that comes in front of me!" he protested, but she just gave him a teasing smile. The shepherd pup scooted closer, and Rose tickled the fur behind his ear. He whined eagerly and Rose unlatched the cage as John left to find Mindy.

"You're a good boy," Rose pulled the puppy into her arms, earning a hearty lick to her cheek for her kindness. She laughed as she scratched his head lovingly, and Mindy cooed happily as she and John returned.

"An excellent choice, miss," Mindy petted the dog quickly. "We've been having a hard time finding a home for him; most folks in the city want a smaller dog."

"Well, I think he's perfect," Rose answered happily, looking over Mindy's shoulder at John. He was smiling back lovingly, happy that Rose was once again smiling and laughing. Rose carried the pup out the door, following Mindy to the desk to fill out the necessary paperwork. John petted the dog absently, but it was already clear who the dog preferred as he snuggled down into Rose's lap. Mindy provided them with all the proper papers and tags, and John carried the leash and collar as Rose carted the snoozing puppy out to the car. Once he was secured in the backseat, Rose snagged John's sleeve and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining," he said softly as she pulled away, "but what was that for?"

"For being wonderful," she answered happily. "I have to say, this is probably the best anniversary I've ever had. You're going to have trouble topping it next year." John shrugged it off with an easy smile.

"I'll worry about that next year," he replied slyly. "Let's get this one home."

"He needs a name," Rose slid into the passenger seat, and John closed her door before jogging around to the driver's side. Once buckled, he glanced over his shoulder. The pup was still sleeping, seemingly unaffected by their conversation. He twitched once when the car started, but as John eased out onto the motorway he relaxed again.

"How about Mickey?" John joked. "I mean, he already sticks to you like cling film, and apparently he can sleep through anything." Rose scoffed and slapped his shoulder, but she couldn't help but laugh at his jibe.

"How about Jack?" she countered, and didn't miss the frown that crossed his features. "What? What's wrong? I thought you liked Jack."

"I do," John answered honestly. "Bravest man I've ever known, really. I was just hoping..." He hesitated, and she could tell he was conflicted about something. Her hand moved to cover his, and he squeezed it gratefully.

"What? What is it?"

"It's just...I was really rather hoping that we could give that name to...to our son." Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt tears welling up. But unlike the weeks previous when the thought of children saddened her, she felt her heart swell with love and joy. Her hand tightened over his own, and she leaned over quickly to kiss his cheek.

"I think that's a fantastic idea." Her voice was soft he almost didn't hear her, but when her words registered he nearly slammed the brakes.

"Wait - what? Are you...are you sure, Rose? Because if you need more time to think, I completely understand."

"No," she shook her head confidently, sure that this was what they were meant to do. "You're right; there are kids out there who need parents, a home, love...and I think we could do that."

"I love you," he blurted, and she laughed. He desperately wanted to pull over and show her just how much, but he knew that this was neither the time nor the place. He could, however, shoot her a grin that put the stars to shame, and she returned one just as bright. "You're right, too, you know," he continued cryptically, and he laughed at her confused expression. "I'm going to have a really hard time topping this anniversary."


	18. First Illness

_"The I in illness is isolation, and the crucial letters in wellness are we." - _Author Unknown

Over the next few months things settled down into a routine. Rose had returned to work and, after consulting Pete and a few ex-police officers, had begun the grueling task of turning her German Sherpard puppy into a working dog. At first, Pete was hesitant to bring the dog onboard, but after seeing how happy Rose was when he was around he couldn't say no. Voren sealed the deal after escaping Rose's locked office to bolt down the stairs and tackle his owner just before she stepped into the path of an out of control tech van. The driver - a young recruit who was paler than a sheet of paper as he realized who he'd almost run over - was reassigned to a desk job until he settled in a bit more.

Rose had lamented for days over what to name their newest addition. Conventional names like Rover and Spot had been tossed out without a second glance, and even unconventional names just didn't seem to fit the pup. There were times when Rose would just stare into his brown eyes, convinced she could see intelligence beyond a simple canine behind them. It was John who had finally suggested using another language to name him, and Rose had asked him to write down some Gallifreyan words. He had smiled humorously at her, but inside he felt his heart clench. It was an achingly familiar pang, one that spoke of unfathomable loss and devastation. It was a pain he'd once lived with daily. Now, however, it had become a forgotten ache, like that of a man remembering the loss of a parent as a child.

After he'd explained to Rose the complexities of his native tongue, they'd decided to just spell it all phonetically using the English alphabet. She'd given him a few suggestions for meanings, ranging from the sentimental to the silly. Finally, around eleven o'clock at night, when they were ready to call it a night and try again in the morning, Rose's eyes had lit up. She nimbly removed the pen from his hand and scrawled one word in the margins of the paper he'd been using. As he read it tears filled his eyes, and he took the pen from her to scribble the translation next to it.

"Voren," she'd whispered. His hand mapped out the Gallifreyan script with a flourish, happy that he had retained his Time Lord mind in the meta-crisis.

"Forever," he answered, dropping the pen in favor of taking her hand. They shared a knowing smile, and the newly dubbed Voren scrambled up into Rose's lap to avoid being left out of the moment.

Now, two months later, Rose and Voren were shaping up to be quite the team. Though the intricate workings of Torchwood and aliens were lost on the dog, he seemed to have an innate sense of danger. On more than one occasion lives had been saved by a simple, warning growl and on one now-infamous mission where Voren had refused to exit the van. The explosion had been nasty, to be sure, but no Torchwood personnel had been harmed due to their attempts to coax Voren out of the vehicle.

If his reputation was impressive, it was only outmatched by his enormous size. At just eight months old, his shoulders were already above Rose's knees. His lean form was well-groomed and muscular, his giant paws a testament to his eventual mass. The veterinarian estimated Voren would grow far larger than others of his breed, possibly two and half to three feet high and well over fifty kilos. Rose had already fitted him with a custom leather collar with his name inscribed in it. John had carved the Gallifreyan translation himself, though only the two of them were aware of the real meaning behind the swirly embellishment.

Rose looked up from putting the final touches on her latest report, smiling widely as she watched Voren kicking futilely in his sleep. She had set up a rather large, plush dog bed in the corner of her office, and Voren had taken to it immediately. He also had food and water dishes nearby, as well as an indestructible chew toy and several tug rings. For all the fuss Pete had made initially, Rose laughed at the absurd amount of attention Voren received from the Torchwood staff. He was a hit with everyone, and Tony had very nearly burst with joy the first time he'd visited Rose at work and saw the sleeping puppy.

Rose turned her attention back to the report, typing in the last few sentences with a sigh. It had been a long day, and a quick check revealed she still had three more grueling hours to go. She sent the report to Pete for approval before lifting her arms above her head to stretch. Voren was on his feet like a shot, a half-bark escaping him as he tried to wake.

"It's alright," she patted her leg quickly, and Voren trotted over. He set his head on her knee, accepting the loving scratch she gave him. He whined then, his brown eyes cutting from her face to her desk. Rose turned her head to try and follow his gaze, but there was nothing out of place. Her desk calendar was filled with various meetings and appointments, her computer screen was sitting idly at the desktop screen, and the photo of her and John was angled perfectly so she could glance over to his face any time she wanted.

"What is it?" He whined again, his eyes trying to tell her what he was incapable of vocalizing. She had long ago learned to pay attention whenever Voren tried to tell her something, and she leaned back so he could lift his upper body into her lap. His head moved to the desk, and he lay directly in front of the photograph with another whine. Rose's heart sped up and she reached over him to grasp the frame. Voren followed her, and his eyes fell on John's image quickly.

"Alright, I'll call him."

As devoted as Voren was to Rose, he seemed to have formed a special bond with John. Whenever they went home, Voren would wait by the door until John walked through it, then he followed the man around as he set his briefcase down and said hello to Rose. He sat on the bed as John changed into casual clothes, then spent the next ten minutes giving and getting love from his owner. John would take Voren out for a walk, then he would sit out in the backyard as John spent time with the growing TARDIS. Voren had no clue what the small bud was, but he knew it was important to his owners and so it was important to him. He listened as John spoke to the TARDIS, barking or whining whenever John turned to speak to him. After dinner, he curled up at their feet as they talked or watched television until bed time. In the morning, John took him out for another walk then put him in the car before seeing Rose off to work.

Rose stared at the dog as she pressed the speed dial. It was just after his lunch time, so he had a free period. He often called her around this time, and she guessed it was his lack of communication that had Voren on edge. His mobile went straight to voicemail, and she laughed as Voren's ears perked at the familiar sound of John's voice on the recording. She hung up and rung the front desk, knowing they could put her through straight to his classroom.

"I'm sorry, Miss Tyler," the receptionist said, "I thought he'd called you. Dr. Smith went home early just before lunch time. He said he was ill."

"Thank you," Rose was already standing as she rung off, and Voren was right behind her as she very nearly ran out the door. After letting Pete's secretary know she was headed home, she bolted down the stairs with an eager puppy on her heels. He laid on the back seat as she broke several traffic laws on the drive home. She spared a quick wave at Janice as she turned onto their street, and her tires gave a short squeal of protest as she braked a little too hard to stop in the driveway.

"John?" She opened the door quickly, tossing her keys onto the bookshelf as Voren set off on a search. He led her to the bedroom, where John's thin frame was stretched out face down on the bed. He was still wearing his work clothes, though he'd managed to shrug off his jacket and shoes. She called his name again softly but there was no response. She could hear his labored breaths from the doorway, and Voren whined once as he trotted around to the other side of the bed. Rose crept closer and peered over his shoulder, frowning at the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. The fringe of hair that usually fell across his brow was soaked and disheveled, and she gasped as she laid a hand on his back.

"John, you're burning up!" She shook his shoulder, but there was still no response. She fought back a wave of panic and shook harder, trying to get him to open his eyes. "John, you need to wake up." He groaned then, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal glossy brown eyes. "Try to sit up," she told him, rushing to the bathroom to run a cool bath. She would have to call Pete and get a transport for them; a regular hospital wouldn't be equipped to deal with his unique physiology, mostly human as he was. She didn't think that the part of him that retained his Time Lord biology would be obviously detectable at a hospital, but she didn't want to take the chance until she was absolutely sure.

She returned quickly to find him unmoved, and she used all her strength to roll him over. The front of his dress shirt was soaked through, and sweat was beaded on his neck. Her fingers made quick work of his buttons, and in seconds he was bare from the waist up. His socks and trousers were next, and soon he was clad in only his boxer briefs. He had woken a bit as she undressed him, but he wasn't coherent. He mumbled something under his breath, and Rose was sure it was in Gallifreyan as the foreign syllables reached her ears.

"John, I can't support your full weight, so you'll have to help me. Come on, get up." She slipped an arm behind him and groaned with the effort of lifting up to a sitting position. His head lolled to her shoulder, and she grimaced at the dangerous heat that poured off of him. "Come on!" She used a bit of her commander's voice to get him to stand up, and once he was half-supporting his own weight she managed to shuffle them to the bathroom. The tub was a little over half full, and she bodily sat him butt-first into the cold water. He gave a little yelp, but she was already shifting his feet over the side and into the water. Voren watched from the doorway as Rose sponged water over John's neck and torso. When he was fully submerged from the chest down, she shut off the water and grabbed her mobile.

"Dad, it's me. John's really sick...I'm not sure, but he's got one hell of a fever. I've got him in cool water, but he's not responding. Can you send a transport? Thanks." She slipped it back into her pocket as John's eyes blinked open. He seemed a bit more cognizant of his surroundings, and as his eyes locked with hers she smiled.

"Something's wrong," he whispered, and she nodded.

"You left work early, do you remember?" He nodded and laid his head back against the cool tile. "You have a fever, though I didn't check it before I got you in here."

"40.2," he replied. "I checked it before I laid down."

"And you didn't call me?" She knew that a fever that high was dangerous for humans, and her concern for his welfare was momentarily overshadowed by a wave of anger at him.

"M'sorry," he mumbled weakly. "Didn't think..." Her anger was washed away by the rather pathetic attempt at an apology, and she chuckled.

"It's alright," she told him, brushing his hair back from his face. "I suppose you're not used to getting sick." He shook his head twice, and she didn't miss the wince that crossed his features. "Does your head hurt?" He nodded almost imperceptibly, as if the slightest movement was agony, and she took a deep breath. "You think you're still allergic to aspirin?" He shrugged and she sighed; there was no way she'd risk anaphylactic shock if he'd retained that particular quirk. She would just have to make sure the medic was aware of his allergy before they tried to give him anything.

"What time is it?" His question was almost incoherent through his slurred speech, but she managed to discern his meaning and checked her watch.

"Quarter after two," she told him. "The secretary said you left work just before lunch, so you've been home for almost an hour by yourself." She was sure to add just a hint of scolding into her tone, and he tried to smile apologetically. "They'll be here soon. Does anything else hurt?" He thought for a moment, as if cataloging each piece of his anatomy methodically.

"Stomach aches...m'tired." She cupped some water in her hand and ran it over his neck and shoulders. The relieved sigh that escaped his lips tore at her heart, and she sent a silent prayer for Pete to get there soon.

Voren's ears perked up and he growled once before settling down. The footfalls soon reached Rose's ears, and she stood up to allow the medics past her. Pete was standing in the bedroom, questions already forming in his eyes. Voren jumped up on the bed and accepted the absent scratch Pete gave him as Rose looked back into the bathroom.

"He had a fever of 40.2 before I put him in the tub," she said loudly enough for the medics to hear, "and he complained of a bad headache. He also says his stomach hurts, but I don't know how much. And he's severely allergic to aspirin." The medics nodded their thanks as they tried to talk to John, but he'd fallen unconscious again. Pete pulled Rose away as they brought a gurney in, and she had to stifle a sob as she watched them lift his limp form from the tub. They barked medical jargon at each other as they rushed him out the door, and Pete was already headed for his car as Rose grabbed her keys.

"I'll drive," he told her, opening the back door for Voren to jump in. Rose locked up and slid into the passenger seat as Pete raced after the Torchwood ambulance. It beat them back to headquarters by a full ten minutes, and when Rose rushed into the infirmary John was already hooked up to several machines as people darted around him.

"Miss Tyler," one of the staff doctors pulled her aside and began peppering her with questions. Had John been vaccinated against the flu? Had he had any contact with anyone who exhibited flu-like symptoms? Did he have a history of illness? Rose answered the questions as best she could – no he hadn't been, he worked with children, and not particularly, no – and the doctor scribbled down some notes before rushing away. She stayed out of the way, but her eyes never wavered from his pale face. Voren yipped worriedly at her side, and though the nurses glared at his presence they knew better than to complain about it in front of Pete Tyler.

Finally the chaos abated, and Rose was left in the room with only John's heavy breathing and the beep of the machines to break the silence. She walked over to the bed and sank into the nearby chair. The needle in his arm was already pumping fluids and medicine into his system, and she wondered briefly if they would be as effective as the doctor's hoped. She reached over for his hand, careful of the IV, and squeezed it gently. His skin was still flushed and warm, but it was no longer dangerously overheated. She'd heard the doctor order a scan of his brain to see if the fever had damaged anything vital, or if a cause could be determined.

"I'm here," she whispered, hoping for some response from him. But he remained deathly still save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Voren curled up in the corner opposite the door, out of the way but close enough to react if needed. Rose looked up into the dog's eyes, watching him stare at John intently. Once again Voren had possibly saved a life, and Rose found herself grateful for the dog's presence.

"Good boy," she whispered, and Voren thumped his tail against the floor twice in response. Settling his head down on his paws, he closed his eyes to rest. Rose relaxed back into the chair, never letting go of her hold on John's hand. He would have a rough couple of days ahead, and probably a longer recovery period, but he was alive and Rose clung to that fact.

After an hour of silence, Rose's restlessness got the better of her. She called the school to let them know he wouldn't be in for the rest of the week, and she'd let them know about the next. Her next call was to her mother, asking her to swing by the house and grab Rose's laptop and duffel. She had a few changes of clothes, a book, and basic necessities in there, and Rose wouldn't be leaving the hospital until John woke. Jackie tried to reason with her, tell her that she needed to take care of herself as well, but she knew it was futile. Her daughter was as stubborn as she was, and there was no talking her out anything she'd set herself to.

"Rose?" A young woman poked her head through the door, and Rose smiled flatly as she recognized her friend. Monica stepped in fully and smiled back. "I thought I heard your name mentioned. What happened?" Monica shut the door quietly behind her, her eyes falling on John lying in the bed. Rose stood and stretched, walking over to the nurse to keep from disturbing John.

"I called his school and they said he'd gone home early. When I got there he was burning up, so I put him in the tub before calling for transport. They're still trying to figure out what it is." Monica nodded and walked over to the bed, lifting the clipboard from the base.

"Preliminary diagnosis is the flu," she told Rose. "The doctor's ordered a brain scan to determine if his fever damaged anything, though it looks like you got to him in time." Rose sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Don't worry," Monica replaced the clipboard and squeezed Rose's arm, "he should be fine in a couple of days. Call me if you need anything." She glanced back once more before slipping out the door, leaving Rose alone with her thoughts.

Jackie came and went, leaving an overstuffed duffel bag in the corner by Voren and a baggie full of dog food. Rose laughed as Jackie handed her a handmade card from Tony, complete with a crayon TARDIS and two rather hastily scrawled figures that Rose guessed were her and John. "Get Well Soon" was scribbled at the top, and "Love, Tony" was at the bottom. Rose set the card down on the bedside table where John was sure to see it when he woke. After a hug and a promise to take care of herself, Rose ushered Jackie out the door.

Medical personnel came and went, checking on various vitals and leaving Rose with a microwave dinner. They also wheeled in a fold out cot for her, now well aware that she wouldn't be leaving any time soon. After finishing all the reports she'd had piled up in her office, as well as an inventory request that had somehow gotten buried beneath all the paperwork, she closed her laptop and settled down to get some rest. Voren had decided to bunk with her, and the large pup was curled up at her feet on top of the thin hospital blanket she was huddled under. She rolled to her side, still able to see John in the dim light from the machines, and forced herself to close her eyes.

"Rose?" His weak murmur woke her up and she slipped to the bare floor quickly, hissing as her feet hit the cold tile. His eyes were a bit more focused, but he was still warm to the touch and she could hear how hard it was for him to breathe.

"Hey there," she brushed some hair away from his forehead and smiled softly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Fear and pain filled his eyes, and Rose couldn't help but laugh.

"It's just the flu," she told him softly. "You're fever spiked too high and we had to bring you in. Do you remember that?" He paused for a moment but then shook his head, turning it to cough violently into his pillow. She rubbed his back soothingly until he settled down, then offered him a glass of water. "Small sips," she warned, tilting it so he could wet his lips. He took a few gulps despite her warning, and Rose frowned as she pulled the half-empty glass away.

"How long?"

"You were out for a few hours. It's almost eleven now." He glanced down at her flannel pants, then over to the fold away bed.

"You should go home...rest." She shook her head and laid her cool hand against his cheek.

"Nice try. What would you do if our places were switched?" He didn't answer her, but she could see the acceptance in his eyes. Voren chose that moment to stick his cold nose right against John's arm, causing the man to jump in surprise.

"Hey there," he patted the dog heavily on the top of his head, earning a concerned lick from the pup. Rose laughed and shooed him away lightly.

"He's the one who made me call you this afternoon," she told him. "Kept pestering me until I did. That's how I figured out you'd gone home early." John nodded absently, the medication taking over once again as his eyes drooped heavily. "You should get some rest," she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "This'll be over before you know it." He groaned lightly, but Rose was happy to see him wriggle down further into the blankets before giving in to exhaustion. She stayed by his side for a few more moments, and when she knew he was asleep she returned to her bed. Voren was curled up once again at her feet, but his eyes were still glued on John's sleeping form. Rose spared a few moments to pet him before exhaustion claimed her as well.

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><p>A bit longer to make up for my radio silence. Spring Break is a crazy time for me (break for students means all day karate camps for me), so I might be a bit incognito next week.<p>

On another note, I'd like some feedback on another story I recently posted. It's called "What I've Done" and I originally posted it under Ten/Rose, but I'm not sure if that's where it needs to be. If y'all could read it and let me know what you think that would be awesome.


	19. First Child

Alright, here it is. One of the moments some of you have been waiting for. The title kind of gives it away, but hopefully I'll still surprise some of you with the details. It took a while to get down, but I made it a bit longer to make up for it.

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><p>FIRST CHILD<p>

_"He who can reach a child's heart can reach the world's heart." - _Rudyard Kipling

"Oh come on," Rose pleaded on the other end of the phone, "it's not like you have anything to do in the summer anyway. You need to get out of the house." John scoffed as he fiddled with whatever contraption he'd cobbled together that afternoon. The setting sun was shining through the kitchen window, and he squinted against its glare as he looked out across the backyard.

"I just...it's Torchwood, Rose." She knew better than anyone how much he loathed that word, what it had come to mean, what it had cost him. He blamed Torchwood for ripping her from him, for sending him back into a downward spiral that had slowly begun to heal upon their reunion. Being here with her – loving her like he'd dreamed – was doing wonders for his psyche; unfortunately old habits were hard to break.

"It's not the same," she replied predictably. She always used the same argument whenever this particular topic arose, but no matter how many times she told him it was different, he had a hard time not shuddering with rage at the mere mention of the name. Pete had half-jokingly suggested a name change, but the higher ups staunchly refused and would hear no more of it.

"I understand Rose, but..." he sighed heavily, unwilling to drag this particular topic through the mud again. "What do you need, again?"

"We got a tip about a possible incident in Yorkshire. The techs did an initial scan and didn't pick up anything obvious, but there were some funny readings that none of us understand. I was hoping you could come down and take a look." She had slipped into her Torchwood voice, and John winced at her rather clinical tone. She had grown so much during their separation, and even though they'd been together for over a year there were some moments she still blindsided him.

"If your techs didn't find anything dangerous, I'm not sure how much help I'll be." It was a lame excuse and they both knew it, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. Other than Rose and her family, he held no love for the organization, changed or no.

"Fine," she huffed. "I'll be home later." The line disconnected and John froze for a moment, wondering just how mad she was. Rose's temper was nothing to laugh at; she'd gotten it direct from Jackie along with Pete's fierce determination. Together they could be a dangerous combination. His only saving grace was the fact that Rose would probably be over it by the time she got home. Missions had a way of absorbing every ounce of her concentration, and the fire of her anger would be left without fuel. He set his mobile on the table and went back to his gadget, sparing a moment every now and then to wonder what she was up to.

Finally, almost two hours and three failed devices later, he couldn't stand it anymore. He rung Pete to tell him he was on his way but received his voice mail instead. He left a quick message and hopped in his car, zipping through evening traffic to the unimposing set of warehouses that masked the subterranean complex. After flashing the ID badge Pete had given him last year, he quickly made his way toward command, where he was sure Pete would be supervising the mission.

Pandemonium greeted him, and a few techs looked almost relieved as he walked through the doors. Pete caught his eye across the room and beckoned him over. John caught a glimpse of a few monitors on his way, and the destruction displayed on them did little to alleviate his nerves.

"What happened?" Pete was busy barking orders over a phone, so John spoke to a mission controller. The young man looked a little intimidated in the presence of the legendary Doctor, but he swallowed and spoke in an even voice.

"Commander Tyler took a team to Yorkshire over an hour ago. We lost communication with the main team ten minutes ago, but our eyes still have visual on them." He pointed to his screen, and when John leaned in closer he could make out two figures moving through the rubble of what had presumably been a nice suburban home. "When they approached the home, they made contact and asked to speak with the alien leader."

"Show me the footage," he ordered, slipping easily into what Rose had coined his "Doctor mode." The controller keyed a few buttons and instantly the replay began. The team had preset several cameras in the area for surveillance, and this one was positioned on the lamppost nearest the house. From the camera's vantage point, John could clearly see the front door and the nondescript black van that pulled up outside the house.

_Rose and her team exited the van cautiously but peacefully, and she left them at the perimeter as she walked up to the home. She knocked on the door twice, Voren waiting patiently by her side. John saw his hackles rise a split second before the door opened, but Rose didn't seem to notice as she smiled disarmingly at the young woman who opened the door._

_"Can I help you?"_

_"Yes ma'am, we're doing a routine sweep of the area. Would you mind if I come in?" The woman's piercing blue eyes surveyed Rose coldly, then looked out at the assembled team. _

"_You will not interfere." Even from the back, John could tell that Rose's demeanor had shifted from pleasant to cautious. _

"_I would like to understand," she replied. "Tell me who you are."_

"_The vessels have been prepared. You will not interfere."_

"Vessels?" John muttered as Rose took a step backward. His mind zipped through possibilities, connecting random words and phrases until something made sense. By the time he'd begun to work out what they were dealing with, Rose had already regrouped and switched tactics.

"_I am sorry for disturbing you. But you are an unregistered alien life form on protected soil, and you will identify yourself."_

"_The vessels have been prepared. You will not interfere." Voren growled low on the tape, and the woman's eyes cut down to the animal._

"Wait," John held out his hand and wiggled his fingers anxiously. "Go back a bit." The controller rewound the footage as John leaned in closer. As the alien repeated her line, John watched her face, and when her eyes fell on Voren he caught a brief flicker of fear.

"Interesting," he whispered. The rest of the footage played on, and John soaked up every second as if it held the clue to unlocking the mystery.

"_It is nearly time. Valla has the information you seek. She is within." Rose hesitated for a moment, tossing a look back at her team._

"_Cecil, with me. You two contact the base and give them an update." Her eyes flickered up to the camera as Cecil grabbed his bag and followed Rose into the house. _

"Rose, no," John whispered warningly, knowing he was unable to help her. The controller fast forwarded the tape through silent moments, resuming the playback just before the roof blew from the house and the entire building collapsed.

"The last communication said that Rose and Cecil were in the sub-level of the home. The other two made verbal contact with them and are trying to dig them out now."

"Do you have the scans taken earlier? The ones Rose wanted me to come look at?" The controller looked helplessly at him, and John took a breath to repeat himself when Pete grabbed his arm.

"I've got those here," he said quickly, pulling John away from the anxious tech. "Do you know what we're dealing with?" John slipped his glasses on and scanned the paper greedily.

"I think so," he murmured. "He said you still have visual on the team?" Pete nodded and directed him to another set of screens. The previously pristine home was now a pile of rubble, and the reconnaissance mission had turned into a rescue operation as the remaining two members of Rose's team sifted through the ruins.

"Update," Pete ordered, and two controllers swiveled in their chairs with calm expressions.

"Yes, sir. Commander Tyler, Lieutenant Morrigan, and Voren are still trapped in the sub-level, along with one civilian survivor. Another team has been dispatched to help get them out; they should be there soon." Pete nodded and turned back to John.

"Do you have any clue who they were?"

"Nevali," he said quickly, "they sound like Nevali. They're a race of hyper-sentient beings, existing only as energy and thought. During the last phase of their lives, they transcend this existence and go to what they refer to as 'Valla.' Supposedly she's the first of their kind to transcend; they revere her as something of a goddess. The problem is that when they reach that phase, they're comprised of so much energy that they can't hold themselves together. They use living creatures as hosts – the 'vessels' – until they transcend."

"What happens to these hosts?" Pete asked, dreading the already obvious answer.

"Burnt up – every cell is used as fuel for the transcendence. Whoever was possessed is dead now."

"The team said there was one survivor, a young boy. Why wasn't he possessed?" John shrugged one shoulder, looking at the readouts again.

"Could be they didn't need him. Maybe there were only a few of them."

"Seven," Pete replied quickly. "There were seven other people in that house. The boy's mother and father, three other adults, and two older children."

"Both of them older than the boy?" Pete nodded. "Well then, there's your answer. Nevali can only possess higher functioning life forms. The more developed, the easier they are to possess. It's why the woman showed an aversion to Voren; dogs are smart enough to know something's wrong but not enough to possess. They're gone now, though. That bright flash that blew the roof off? That was them transcending."

"So they've just killed seven humans and gotten away?" John stared back, all too aware of Pete's anger. He understood the blind rage the other man felt at the seemingly senseless killings, but there was little he could do about it now. Once their TARDIS was operational, he'd be of more use, but right now he was as helpless as any other human.

"I'm afraid so." Audio static interrupted them, and they turned to watch the team pull a disheveled man from the ruins. The leader of the second team was reporting in, and the controller responded as Pete and John looked on.

"Lieutenant Morrigan," Pete announced. "And there's Rose." Voren hopped out of the hole as two of the soldiers reached in and grabbed hold of Rose's arms. She had a rather large bundle wrapped in blankets clutched to her chest, and John knew immediately it was the boy. They were all rushed to the transport as a tech retrieved the camera, cutting off their feed. Pete gestured for John to follow, and fifteen minutes later the two vehicles pulled into the bay.

Medics helped Morrigan down as he cradled his arm, rushing him off to the infirmary as John waited for Rose. She appeared seconds later, still cradling the boy in her arms. Their eyes locked across the bay and she smiled reassuringly at him. Once she was cleared by the second commander, she rushed over to him. He hugged her, careful of the bundle in her arms. The boy was awake, but his brown eyes were unfocused and glued to Rose's shirt. His light skin was peppered with ash and dust, turning him almost white, but John could tell he was no older than six or seven.

"Ethan?" She tried to coax him to look up at her, but he was completely unresponsive. She looked back up at John, an entire conversation passing between them in seconds. He patted Voren on the head in greeting and led the way to Rose's office. Pete called after them to remain there until he came by, and John waved an acknowledgement as they slipped out the door.

Once in the relative privacy of the elevator, John leaned over and kissed Rose hurriedly. She responded eagerly, siphoning some of her pent up adrenaline into the kiss. Her emotions were still running high, though she was starting to feel the fatigue in her arms from carrying the boy so long. The lift dinged to signal their arrival and John pulled back, brushing her hair away from her neck quickly before stepping into the empty hallway. Voren trotted ahead, his heavy step the only indication of his exhaustion. John keyed the door open, letting them all in before shutting it firmly behind him.

Rose moved to the long sofa, leaning down to deposit Ethan's rigid body. But the moment she tried to let go he clung tighter, burying his face into her shoulder with a cry. She murmured quietly to him, soothing him with soft noises as she sat down with him. John sat gingerly next to them, staring at the traumatized boy with curiosity.

"What happened?" He kept his voice low not to startle Ethan, but the boy jumped anyway and lifted his head quickly to look at the man.

"They took my parents," he whispered. "They took them and killed them." Rose ran her hand through the boy's fine sandy hair carefully, leaning back against the cushions.

"I'm sorry, Ethan," John replied softly. "I'm so sorry." Rose looked up at him with a watery smile and slipped her free hand into John's. Ethan's tears soaked her shirt as they sat in silence, until finally his exhaustion claimed him. Rose managed to arrange him comfortably on the couch as John grabbed a blanket from a cupboard. Once Ethan was settled Rose turned and accepted the warm embrace John offered. He held her tightly for a moment, cursing himself for not listening to her earlier.

"I'm sorry, Rose." She must have detected the guilty tone in his voice, and she craned her neck to look up at him curiously. "If I had just come down here when you asked me I could have done something."

"Pete said you didn't know who they were until after it all happened," she reasoned, but John shook his head as he released her.

"I could have at least gone with you. I might have been able to prevent..."

"You can't blame yourself." She'd said that to him before, often after an adventure had gone horribly wrong. But unlike then, when her voice had been innocent and forgiving, now her tone held nothing but certainty. Rose had been in that house, had seen what had been done to Ethan's family. It was already too late for them; John would have been just as helpless as she'd been. Her firm tone seemed to have gotten through, and he nodded faintly. Rose moved around her desk to sit in front of the keyboard. John watched with mild curiosity as she typed up a short after action report, her fingers flying across the keys with precision.

"Knock knock," Pete's whisper broke the silence, and he stepped in quickly. His eyes fell on the sleeping boy first, then moved to Rose and John. "How is he?"

"Drained," Rose answered truthfully. "I'm not sure he's through grieving yet, but he wore himself out."

"Well, I came by to talk to you...both of you, actually." He sank into one of Rose's guest chairs, gesturing for John to take the other. "We had a team go back out to the house to try and retrieve anything that would help us identify the owners. We found an old electricity bill under what used to be the refrigerator." He pulled it out and handed it across to Rose. She took it and glanced at the address.

"Carrigan. His last name is Carrigan."

"We searched every available record. It seems he had a small family. His mother and father, his maternal grandmother, his father's two brothers, an aunt, and two cousins." The reality of Pete's words sunk in and Rose's eyes moved over to Ethan's prone form.

"His whole family was killed." Her voice only wavered slightly, and when she looked over at John she could see empathy in his eyes.

"Other than his grandmother, yes. She's in an assisted living home in London. A degenerative disease has left her incapable of caring for herself."

"And certainly not a child," John added quietly. "Why are you here, Pete?" Rose shot him a sharp look, but he was only voicing the question in Rose's mind.

"This child has been through an incredible event. I'm not sure any orphanage in the country is capable of dealing with what this could do to him psychologically."

"You want us to take him." John, it seemed, had foregone any semblance of subtlety and Pete sighed.

"If there were another option, I'd gladly entertain it. But you two may be uniquely suited to deal with the trauma this child has endured." John looked over at Rose, trying to gauge her reaction to this. They had talked at length about one day adopting children and raising a family of their own. But all those plans had been for the future; this was an unexpected development that was throwing him off balance.

"Can we talk about it?" It was Rose who spoke, and Pete nodded once and stood. "No, I mean in private. Can you sit with him for a moment?" Rose nodded at Ethan, and Pete sat back down.

"Of course." Rose stood up, leading John from the room, down the hall, and into a private conference room. Once the door was shut firmly behind them she turned to him with wild eyes.

"What do we do?" He stepped closer, grabbing her hands with his own.

"Relax, Rose." He squeezed her hands comfortingly, offering what support he could as she worked through her emotions. "We've discussed this before," he added helpfully.

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be thrust upon us so soon." She took a deep breath. "What do you think?"

"I think Pete's right. We're probably the best people to deal with the psychological trauma he might be dealing with. It's not easy telling a six year old that his parents were killed by aliens." He spoke with an air of experience, and Rose was reminded once again that though his body was new his mind and soul were centuries old.

"So you think we should do this?" She released his hands and ran one through her dusty hair. She desperately needed a shower, and possibly a drink, before she could fully deal with something of this magnitude, but it looked like she'd get neither.

"I think we should do what is best for all of us. Just...wait a moment." He lifted one hand and cupped her face, running his thumb over her eye and cheek. Her eyes closed under his ministrations, and he stepped closer. "Take a deep breath, Rose, and just clear your mind." He waited until she'd done so before he kissed her forehead. "What does your heart tell you?"

"Do it," she answered quickly, surprising even herself. Her eyes flew open and sought his own, seeing his reassurance shining back at her.

"Then we'll do it. We're ready for this, Rose." He said it aloud more for affirmation than question, but Rose nodded all the same.

"Alright, let's go tell Dad." She grabbed his hand and didn't let go as they walked back down the hall. They'd tried initially to keep their personal relationship discreet at Torchwood, but both of them had soon found that impossible. Even the first few days, when they'd just begun sorting out his new life and Rose had shown him around, their hands found each other almost of their own accord.

"No!" Ethan's distressed cry startled them, and they ran the rest of the distance to Rose's office. Pete was frantically trying to calm Ethan down, but the boy was thrashing violently in his arms. Rose rushed over, and Ethan latched onto her the moment his eyes found her. She almost fell backward from the force with which he'd crashed into her, but John was there to steady her as Ethan shook in her arms.

"It's alright, Ethan," she whispered, running her hand over the boy's head. His face was buried in her stomach, and though he didn't cry Rose could tell he was fighting back tears. Pete had backed off, but his voice was still clear as he spoke.

"We need to check him over and talk to him before...anything happens." He knew even before he'd come what his daughter's decision would be; she had such a big heart, there was no chance she'd turn this child away. But protocol had to be followed, and at the very least the boy's grandmother needed to be contacted. John caught Pete's eye and nodded once, a silent message that he'd get them down to the infirmary soon. Pete nodded back, leaving the trio alone for now.

Rose managed to coax Ethan out of hiding, and he even offered John a small wave when Rose introduced him. The thing that really seemed to bring him out, however, was the puppy lying in the corner. Voren was watching them from his bed, but when John called his name he jumped up and trotted over. Ethan's face brightened as Voren sat at his feet accepting the loving attention from the boy. Rose gathered her things and gestured for them to follow her out the door. Ethan stuck one little finger through Voren's leather collar as the dog led him like the blind down the hall and into the lift.

The infirmary was relatively calm, and Rose spared a few moments to check on Cecil. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, but other than a small gash and minor concussion there was no worry. Ethan hopped up on another table, his eyes still glued to the dog sitting faithfully at his feet. Monica Greene, Rose's favorite of the Torchwood medics, came over with a tray of instruments and bright smile.

"You must be Ethan," she said evenly, all to aware of the loss the child had endured in the last few hours. He seemed in good spirits, however, when he looked up and nodded back. Rose was still talking to Cecil, and his eyes frantically searched for her as Monica checked his heart rate.

"It's alright," John said quietly, stepping up behind the boy. Ethan's dark eyes snapped over to him, and he relaxed slightly. Monica checked his lungs, made sure he hadn't suffered any head injuries or broken bones, and drew a blood sample. John had to hold the boy's hand for the latter, and Ethan refused to let it go when Monica walked away. Voren licked Ethan's leg once, causing the boy to emit the first giggle John had ever heard from him. Rose had finished with Cecil, and when John caught her eye he knew it was time to tell Ethan.

"Ethan," Rose began, knowing it would probably be better coming from her. "Ethan, do you know what happened today?" Ethan's small smile faded, and tears filled his eyes as he nodded. "Then you know you can't go home. I'm sorry, Ethan."

"What's gonna happen?" He sounded scared, and Rose resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him right there.

"Well, that's what we wanted to talk to you about. How would you like to come stay with me and John for a while?" For the second time that day, Rose found herself almost bowled over from the force of an six year old slamming into her. Her arms came around him instantly, and she smiled at John over his shoulder. He just smiled back, amazed once more by Rose. She had been nothing short of a miracle for him, and he wondered for the millionth time how he'd gotten so lucky to have her in his life.

Pete strode into the infirmary with a folder in his hands. He hesitated for a moment when he saw the scene before him, but John's encouraging smile was enough for him to approach Rose. Ethan pulled away and settled back on the table as Rose turned to her father with questioning eyes.

"This is all the information we could get on him for now. We have someone going to his grandmother's to break the news, and I'm sure she'll want to see him soon. But don't worry about that right now; I'll get everything ready. You should take the next couple of days to settle him in. Don't come back in till Monday." Rose smiled thankfully and shot Pete a salute.

"Yes, sir." Pete smiled back and shook his head at her antics, waving once to John as he left the room. Rose turned back to Ethan and patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here." Ethan hopped off the table and grabbed hold of Voren's collar once again. For his part, the dog didn't seem to mind playing follow the leader as he walked slowly behind John and Rose. At the front desk Rose paused, turning to John.

"Can you put them in my car? I'll get finished up here and meet you downstairs." John nodded and moved quietly over to the quiet boy. He reached a hand down cautiously, relaxing slightly when Ethan slipped his smaller one into it. Voren barked once to let John know he was ready to go home, and Ethan laughed again. The next few weeks would be anything but easy, but as he watched Ethan's hurried steps to keep up with him, John couldn't help smiling back.


	20. First Family Outing

Hello all! Here's the latest installment. I have to admit, they're getting a bit sappier. Perhaps some levity to break up all this fluff and headiness. But not this one. This one's got some emotion. And the next one is going to OMGFLUFF, so if your blood sugar levels spike I apologize.

This one is one of my faves because it deals with something I think you all were wondering about...the baby TARDIS. We get a little more in depth as to what's going on. I reviewed the deleted scene from "Journey's End" to get it right, so hopefully all of you die hard geeks out there will be as pleased as I am.

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><p>FIRST FAMILY OUTING<p>

_"In truth a family is what you make it. It is made strong, not by number of heads counted at the dinner table, but by the rituals you help family members create, by the memories you share, by the commitment of time, caring, and love you show to one another, and by the hopes for the future you have as individuals and as a unit." - Marge Kennedy_

John stretched as he woke, making sure not to rouse the sleeping form next to him. Voren yawned widely and stood as John's bare feet hit the carpet, padding over to give his master a good morning lick on the hand. John patted him on the head and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging moments later wearing khakis and a plain white t-shirt – it was Saturday morning and time to work with the growing TARDIS before the rest of the house woke up.

The past few weeks had been interesting enough for the Smith/Tyler household. Settling Ethan in had been rough at first, but regular visits to his grandmother seemed to be effective in mitigating a full-on meltdown. There were, of course, nights he'd wake up screaming from a nightmare and calling for his mother. On those nights, both of them would sit with the terrified boy, comforting him as best they could until he fell back to sleep. During the day, Ethan would sit in the living room watching television or play out in the backyard with Voren as John worked. It was, from an outsider's point of view, an everyday, normal type of life.

John smiled to himself as he grabbed a bag off of its hook and opened the back door, the early morning rays peeking over the fence. Voren bounded into the grass, rolling around playfully before disappearing around the side of the house. John watched him go, still surprised at how large he was for his age. His form was lean from all the exercise he got at Torchwood, but no one could claim they starved the pup in either food or attention.

"And how are you doing this morning?" he whispered, kneeling down in a patch of grass off to the side of the porch. When they'd first moved in, John had cordoned off and prepared this little area specifically for their growing TARDIS. Using various items he'd discovered in Torchwood's vault, he'd managed to change the soil into a passable replica of the Cultivation Fields of Gallifrey. When he'd situated the small crystal into the ground, he and Rose were beaming ear to ear. He checked its progress daily, and on weekends he spent hours ensuring that everything was just right to keep it healthy.

The small orb that poked above the ground was glowing faintly, and John felt his heart speed up as he realized it was finally ready for the next stage. Opening the satchel he'd brought out with him, he dug around inside until he found the device he'd been looking for. He pulled it out with a triumphant cry, causing Voren to bark once as he raced back around the corner to him.

"Oh, hush, it's alright." Voren sniffed the gadget curiously before sitting roughly on his haunches behind John. "You'll want to watch this. I'm about to shatter-fry the plasmic shell. Technically speaking, it's really supposed to do this on its own, but it won't even begin to cracking its way out for another hundred years or so. So I'm just gonna give it a little boost." The small cylinder in his hand whirred to life as he pressed a series of buttons on its side. The end began glowing a bright orange, and a whine filled the air that caused Voren to shake his head quickly. "Sorry, boy, but this is going to take a bit." He pushed forward to his knees as he lowered the glowing end to the shell of the TARDIS. Immediately the whining increased, and Voren backed up a few paces as he growled.

"Well go back inside if it bothers you," John growled back, frowning in deep concentration as he pressed another button. The plasmic shell of the TARDIS began to glow brighter and John's frown softened. "Come on, you can do it," he whispered. "This is the worst part, I promise. After this, we'll get to accelerating your growth but I need you to help me out here." The world around him faded away as he worked diligently on the baby TARDIS, but it was brought sharply back into focus by a small voice in his ear.

"What are you doing?" It was a testament to all the years fixing the TARDIS while companions wandered in and out that he didn't drop the shatter-frying mechanism. He glanced over at Ethan still clad in his Superman pajamas and cradling a small cup of water.

"I'm working on getting this little girl out of her shell."

"Is it like an egg?" Ethan sat down on the cool concrete of the porch as John turned back to his work.

"Well it is an egg of sorts," he agreed. "Inside here is a wondrous being. Have we ever told you the story of the Doctor and his TARDIS?" Ethan nodded, remembering that particular bedtime story fondly. He loved hearing about the mad Doctor's adventures and the people he saved. "Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this," he glanced over his shoulder quickly, as if looking for someone to catch them, "but I think I can trust you."

"Yes!" Ethan bounced a bit, spilling water on his pants. John laughed and shook his head slightly.

"I'm not sure. You might tell Rose and then I'd be in trouble." In fact, they had been discussing just the other day about telling Ethan a bit more of the truth, and they had planned a big outing to Torchwood (or at least its peripheral offices) this afternoon.

"I won't tell, I promise!" Ethan leaned in really close so John could whisper.

"Well, all those stories that we tell you? They're real."

"No, they aren't!" Ethan laughed as if John had told him a joke. "Things like that don't happen." John frowned a bit, not wanting to remind Ethan just how he'd lost his entire family. But another part of him was affronted that this six year old was contradicting him, and he lifted his brow.

"Yes they are," he returned evenly, "and I can prove it. Just after I get this baby TARDIS to hatch." Ethan's eyes cut down to the glowing orb sitting half-buried in the earth, then back up to John.

"TARDIS?"

"Yep," John grinned, "just like the Doctor's. Or, rather, exactly like the Doctor's as this little coral was a piece of his ship." It had taken him a while to get used to talking about the Doctor in the third person; in many ways, he was still the Doctor. But he had become enough of his own person to justify making the distinction, and it was easier for all involved if they could keep straight just who they were talking about anyway.

"But you said he had a time machine. That's not a time machine." Ethan's matter-of-fact statement made John laugh out loud, causing the boy to grin widely.

"Well, no, not yet. But normally TARDISes take thousands of years to grow; we're trying to do it in just under a decade." Ethan's forehead scrunched in confusion, and John sighed. Explaining complex temporal mechanics to a six year old would be worse than futile. Instead, he turned back to his work and adjusted the setting. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed in triumph, causing Voren to bark.

"What's going on out here?" Rose was leaning against the door frame with warm mug in her hand. Both Ethan and John whirled around with identical looks of guilt, but she ignored the six year old in favor of raising a questioning eyebrow at the supposed adult. John's face had morphed into a manic grin, and she found herself smiling in spite of herself.

"Rose! You're awake. I have great news - the shell was finally ready to shatter-fry, and in a couple of days I'll be able to adjust the dimensional stabilizers to the fold-back harmonic that will accelerate her growth!"

"Uh huh," she stepped out onto the porch. "But what's going on?"

"John's got a time machine!" Ethan burst out unexpectedly before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled through his fingers, glancing at John sadly. John laughed at his expression and ruffled his hair, shrugging one shoulder.

"It's alright, Champ."

"Ethan, why don't you go get dressed. We're all going out today." Eager to get away from the embarrassment of breaking his promise, Ethan darted around Rose's legs and disappeared into the house with Voren hot on his heels. With the child gone, Rose's look leveled into a frown. "You have a funny definition of easing into it," she said, softening her words with a half-smile. Seeing he wasn't really in trouble, John stood and grabbed Rose's hand to tug her closer.

"Oh, come on, Rose. I'm brilliant and clever, but patience isn't high on my list of virtues." She laughed again, remembering countless adventures that might have ended a bit better (and possibly a bit less messy) if he'd just paused a moment to think.

"Right, well, what else did you tell him?"

"Nothing," John answered a little too quickly, his voice lilting in that adorable, what-makes-you-think-that way she loved. Her stared never wavered from his face, and finally he broke. "I may have mentioned something about the Doctor being a real person."

"What?"

"But that's it, I promise. He doesn't know about the whole Time Lord in another dimension thing." Rose sighed in mock -exasperation and released his hand.

"Alright, well I suppose we'll just have to be careful what we tell him. The psychologist Dad recommended said he might not be able to understand a lot of it right now." John pulled a face at the mention of the psychologist, and Rose left before he could go off on a rant about soft sciences and guesswork. He'd made it very clear what he thought of Pete's suggestion of a therapist, though Rose suspected that had more to do with his ingrained refusal to talk about his past than not liking the woman. She had been paramount in helping Ethan settle in, and it was she who had ultimately brought up the possibility of easing Ethan into the realities of their life. With her help, Ethan had come to accept that his parents had been killed by aliens - though John had been quick to ensure he understood that there were good aliens and bad aliens, just as it was with humans.

With the baby TARDIS finally out of her shell, he scanned her one more time to make sure she was alright before packing everything up. With a final caress and goodbye, he went to get ready for their day.

Lunch was first at Rose's favorite chip shop, and Ethan dug into his food eagerly as Rose and John discussed the TARDIS. John was confident that with the right conditions and no complications, they would have a fully functioning TARDIS in approximately nine years.

"Well, eight years, seven months, and twelve days, but you get the idea." She smiled at his exactness and popped another chip into her mouth.

"If you have a time machine, could you go back and save my family?" Ethan asked suddenly, and Rose choked on her food as John gaped at the six year old. Their eyes connected over his head and John sighed heavily.

"Ethan, it's...not that simple. Believe me, I wish it were. But it's not."

"But you could stop the bad aliens from killing them!" Ethan argued, earning more than a few curious looks from bystanders. Rose stood up, ushering the boys from their seats as well as she shot the other patrons an apologetic look. Ethan's eyes were glassy with tears, and the pout on his face promised a full on tantrum if they didn't settle it now. With a resigned sigh, John lifted Ethan into his arms as Rose cleared the table. The child's body was rigid, not at all his usual, easy-going self. They walked a bit through a nearby park, trying to find a secluded spot where they could explain properly. A shaded clearing underneath a large oak proved promising, and Rose sank down into the grass as John set Ethan between them. The boy had tears running down his face, but Rose couldn't tell if they were from sadness or anger.

"You're really young, Ethan, so I'm not sure how much of this you'll really comprehend," John began, "but we'll explain it all to you and hopefully you'll understand with time." He started with the Doctor, about how he was a good alien who traveled around the universe in his spaceship helping people. But having a time machine, he explained, meant he had to follow certain rules. And he tried so hard to help others anyway, to make the universe better even with his limitations. They'd told him all about this when they'd spun the Doctor's stories as bedtime tales, but John wanted to make sure he understood that not every story had a happy ending. Most of the time, he added, he had friends traveling with him. Ethan looked over at Rose at this, and she nodded.

"He let me travel with him for a while. We were...good friends." John reached over and grabbed Rose's hand, smiling at her through tears of his own. Ethan glanced at John then.

"Did you travel with him, too?"

"Sort of," John scratched his neck with his free hand, a nervous gesture Rose didn't miss. She squeezed his hand and took over for him.

"Have you ever blown bubbles, Ethan?" Confused by the random segue, Ethan just nodded. "Well, our whole entire universe is like a really, really big bubble. Well, there are a lot of bubbles out there, and sometimes two of them collide."

"Do they make one big bubble?" Ethan questioned honestly, but Rose just shook her head.

"No, but it made it possible for some things to cross from one bubble to the other. That's how I got here." Ethan stared at her for a moment, trying to process everything she'd said. Finally, he glanced over at John.

"Did you cross over, too?"

"Yes, I did. But I'm not just...there was this..." he looked at Rose for help, unable to come up with the words to describe the metacrisis to a six year old. Rose bit back a laugh at the expression on his face and shook her head.

"Something happened to the Doctor, and he was cloned. But the second one was part-Doctor and part human, too. He came with me to this universe." Ethan's head snapped back over to John, and he offered the boy a wave and a grin. Ethan laughed for a moment at his silliness before his grin faded in favor of an awestruck expression.

"You're the Doctor?" His young mind remembered the stories he'd been told, all the wonderful places the Doctor had visited and the things he'd done.

"Well, yes, I suppose. I mean, I remember doing all those things we told you about. But since I was made, my memories and experiences have been different, so in other ways we're two separate people. Does that make sense?" Ethan's blank face told him the answer, and he sighed. "You'll get it someday. We just...we wanted you to know that there is nothing we wouldn't do if we could bring your family back. But we just can't, Ethan. You understand that, right?"

"You mean like how bad things happened to the Doctor but he didn't change it because it had to happen?" Rose's heart broke at the sorrow in Ethan's tone, and she reached over to lift the boy in her lap. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by a child's need to be comforted. He accepted her hug willingly, wrapping his little arms around Rose's neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know it hurts to lose someone you love. But that doesn't mean you have to forget about them. They'll always be with you here," she shifted so she could press her hand against the boy's chest. "And, if you'd let us, John and I would love to be your new family." Unable to speak through his tears, Ethan just nodded against her neck. John moved closer, wrapping his arm around Rose's shoulder and settling his other on Ethan's back. After a few emotionally heavy moments, Rose wiped her own tears away and smiled widely.

"Right, why don't we go get some ice cream before we show you where I work." Ethan's response was less than enthusiastic, but John leaned in very close and whispered loudly so Rose could hear.

"Trust me, Rose's work is a lot cooler than you'd think."

"Are there going to be any aliens there?" The frightened expression told Rose they had a long way to go in Ethan's therapy, but she just brushed it off and shook her head.

"No, sweetie. No aliens."

"But," John jumped up with an excited grin and pulled Ethan and Rose with him, "there are some really brilliant toys to play with in the vault."

"How many times do Dad and I have to tell you?" Rose shot back quickly. "Those are extra-terrestrial artifacts; they aren't toys."

"They are to me," he retorted, giving her a wink for good measure as Ethan laughed. "Besides, I need some other supplies for the TARDIS now that I've shatter-fried the plasmic shell."

"Like what?" Ethan asked, slipping his hand into John's larger one. He began babbling about the finer points of growing a TARDIS as Rose led the way to the car, only half-listening. They'd made progress today - quite a bit of it - but she knew Ethan's troubles were far from over. But as she listened to Ethan's innocent questions and John's enthusiastic responses, she knew they'd be okay.

* * *

><p>So what do you think? Six year old intelligence is hard to pin down - I work with young children and some of them are quite sharp. Cloning, for example, seems to be a relatively mundane topic with six year olds. I blame the Star Wars cartoon. And I kind of stole the whole "bubble" thing from "The Doctor's Wife." Of all the Matt Smith episodes, that one's in my top 5.<p> 


	21. First Honeymoon

Okay, so I promised a sappy, fluffy chapter. I think this one qualifies, how about you?

* * *

><p><em><em>FIRST HONEYMOON

_"The highest happiness on earth is marriage." - William Lyon Phelp_

It was inevitable, he thought as his car rolled steadily down the highway. They were always moving toward this, even in those early days of running and laughing and world-saving. But now they were finally here, and he felt as though his single heart would burst from joy as he glanced over at his sleeping companion. It had been a long day for both of them, culminating in what was quite possibly the best moment of his life. But even with all the nagging (Jackie) and exhausted whining (Tony and Ethan) and supportive claps on the shoulder (Pete), John knew he would cherish this day forever.

Today, Rose had become his wife.

His eyes moved from the road to gaze at her for a moment, her head propped up in her hand and her elbow resting on the door. Her mouth was open slightly, and he could hear her soft breathing over the quieted radio. She had slipped out of her elegant dress and into a lighter, less formal one, and she still had bits of rice caught up in her hair. He had shaken confetti from his own suit, and specks of the colorful paper adorned the floor mat at his feet. The tin cans that had rattled upon their departure were now stored safely in the boot, but John could still hear them clink together whenever he turned.

The sun was almost touching the horizon as he drove on, determined to reach their destination by nightfall. His mind began to wander in the silence, replaying the events of the day over in his mind, and once again he was thankful for the retention of his superior mental capabilities as each moment unfolded in perfect clarity.

* * *

><p>"<em>Wake up, John!"<em>

_John let out a grunt of pain as a rambunctious boy landed on his stomach. Tony loved John like a big brother, and had no problems following his mother's suggestion of waking the man up just before dawn. Ethan stood quietly at the foot of the bed, watching the noisier boy bounce on the bed between John's legs. When John offered him an encouraging smile, he climbed up the duvet to settle into the man's arms._

_The two boys had a rough start with Ethan's inherent shyness, but Tony's natural charm won him over eventually. Once Ethan had learned that Tony, too, had been told a fair number of stories about the Doctor, the two could often be found running around the yard saving the world. Cries of "This time, you be the bad guy and I'll be the Doctor. Where's my TARDIS?" were fairly common around the Tyler estate._

_John looked at them now, so different in appearance and demeanor but quite possibly the closest of friends. Ethan, with his light brown hair and dark eyes, was often so quiet that most of the adults sometimes forgot he was even in the room. Tony was just the opposite, with his bright blue eyes and a mop of light hair that was constantly falling in his face as he ran and jumped about._

"_Why are you two up so early?"_

"_Mum said we have to get ready," Tony bounced a bit more before launching himself at John's stomach. He caught the boy easily and leaned back against the pillows, careful not to jostle Ethan. But the older boy seemed to have gotten over his early morning silence and attacked John's middle right alongside Tony. John fended them off for a while before setting them against each other in a tickle war. Ethan was a bit bigger, but Tony was faster, and the boys were out of breath by the time Pete nudged the door open._

"_Alright you two, let the man up." John shooed Tony and Ethan away, but the boys continued their war out the door and down the hall. Tony's cry of "Tag, you're it!" could be heard along with a high pitched giggle and the fading patter of small feet. Pete shook his head fondly at the two before turning his attention back to John._

"_Are you ready for today?" John slid out of bed and shrugged his dressing gown on, trying to calm his hammering heart as the importance of the day finally hit him. "You'll be fine," Pete clapped his shoulder paternally and held out a mug of tea. "This is from Jackie. She said to be dressed in something nice and downstairs in twenty minutes." The two men shared a knowing look before John downed his tea and nodded._

"_Right, better do as she says."_

"_Smart man," Pete laughed, then disappeared out the door. John caught his reflection in the mirror, and he took a moment to study his features. It had been over two years since he and Rose were left on Bad Wolf Bay, and he was beginning to show the effects of passing time in his face. The lines were deeper than they had been and his cheeks a tad fuller, but overall he still looked and felt like he did the day he was created._

"_Come on then," Pete's voice called, and John turned from the mirror to begin his day._

* * *

><p>He was pulled from his memory by Rose stirring beside him. He'd had a relatively easy day with Pete and the boys, but he could only imagine the marathon Jackie had put her through. When they'd finally announced they were having a small ceremony, Jackie had shrieked in delight and set to work planning the most elaborate simple wedding in history. Poor Rose had been sucked into the whirling dervish that was Jackie on a mission, and they had spent the last few weeks organizing floral arrangements, ministers, dresses, decorations, and anything else Jackie could talk her into.<p>

He waited for her to wake up and inquire where they were, but she just shifted into a more comfortable position and went back to sleep. He reached over with his free hand and moved a stray piece of hair away from her face, freeing a few pieces of rice in the process. Her ring caught the sunlight as she shifted again, and John smiled softly before turning his attention back to the road.

* * *

><p>"<em>I want you to have this," Pete held out a small box. "I know things are tight right now with Ethan. Consider it a wedding gift if you want." John opened up the box and gaped at the magnificent ring that lay within. <em>

"_Pete, what…"_

"_I happen to have a great many spies in my employ," he began in mock-seriousness, "and I also happen to know that this ring is the one Rose really wanted before she saw the price tag. Jackie, of course, offered to buy it, but Rose wouldn't have it." John was still staring down at the woven gold band, littered almost randomly with small diamonds. In the dim light of morning, the ring cast little points of light around the kitchen, filling the room with stars._

"_We had a ring budget," John explained. "We wanted to make sure we didn't over-stretch ourselves."_

"_Which is why she went with this one," Pete pulled out the simple ring Rose had chosen, tilting it back and forth in his palm. "Not quite the same effect."_

"_I can't accept this," John held the box out to Pete. "Rose wouldn't…"_

"_John, trust me. Take the ring." Pete pushed the box back into his hands, staring into John's watering eyes. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, John reached forward and wrapped the man in a bear hug. "Whoa! Okay…" He patted John on the back a few times before letting him go to finish his breakfast. Neither of them spoke of the ring again._

* * *

><p>Pete had been right, of course. When John had pulled out that ring to slip it on her finger, Rose's glassy eyes spilled over with tears. She had made a quiet comment about water-proof makeup, and he could see the effort she was making to restrain herself from grabbing his tuxedo and re-enacting their first kiss on the beach. He was glad she'd gone first, because he was sure she wouldn't have been able to recite her own vows through the tears falling from her face.<p>

They had, of course, eschewed any traditional wedding vows and instead opted to write their own. He'd listened with tears of his own as she poured her heart out to him in front of the small congregation, trying not to forget his own words as she spoke with such love, such trust, that he had to grasp more tightly to her hand to keep from kissing her right there. She had mentioned how he'd saved her life, pulling her from the fire that had consumed her workplace. Some of the women in the audience had cooed softly at that, but only John could see the mirth in her eyes as she told the story they'd concocted upon his arrival. Finally, when it was his turn, he stared deeply into her eyes and began reciting the words he'd practiced for over a month; words that, to the gathered, meant a vow of devotion, of love, of a lifetime, but to Rose they meant so much more.

* * *

><p>"<em>Rose Tyler," he began, saying her name like a prayer as he held her hands tighter. "My angel, my salvation. There isn't a language in this universe - or any other - that could properly express just what you mean to me. You saved me. You have made me a better man for knowing you. I may have saved your life, but you have saved my soul. My heart," he emphasized, "is yours until the end of time. I promise to stand by you when the wolf is at the door, and even the devil himself couldn't tear you from my side. I swear I will run with you until the end of our lives, and beyond." <em>

_He held out his hand without taking his eyes off of Rose, and Pete slipped the ring into his hand. When Rose saw it she gasped, and a single tear fell from her eyes onto their joined hands. He lifted them to place a reverent kiss on her knuckles, and she laughed through her tears._

_"Thank God for water-proof mascara," she whispered, and he smiled. Her eyes darkened then, and he had to gulp down a lump in his throat at the promise in them. Suddenly, this ceremony couldn't be over fast enough, and he bit back a groan at the thought of sitting through the reception afterward with that thought running through his head. The minister was speaking now, something about binding them together for eternity, but John couldn't see or hear anything other than the vision in front of him. Only when her hands tightened around his eagerly did he snap back into focus, and the minister turned them toward the congregation with a smile._

_"May I present Doctor and Mrs. John Smith." The small group of their friends and family erupted into cheers, jumping to their feet with thunderous applause. Jackie sat in the front row, both boys passed out on either side of her, and John could see her wiping her tears away as she grinned ear to ear. He felt Rose's hand slip back into his own, and she stood up on her tiptoes so her lips reached his ear._

_"Run!" He shot her a pleased grin and pulled her along with him, down the aisle and past the confused onlookers. He could vaguely hear Jackie barking at them to be at the reception hall in one hour, but all he could focus on was getting out of that building. When they'd emerged into the sunlight they were laughing, and John felt as though his heart would burst from his chest._

* * *

><p>He and Rose had spent a little longer than necessary changing into their reception attire, intent as they were on celebrating their marriage. But Rose promised him a rather enjoyable night so long as he didn't make her late and he behaved himself. He'd conceded easily, slipping into a pair of slacks as she shimmied into a long dress. They met for one more searing kiss before jumping back into their car to head to the reception.<p>

It had been the one thing Rose and Jackie had disagreed on rather severely. Rose hadn't wanted a big reception - or any reception at all. As far as Rose was concerned, the wedding was enough pomp and circumstance for them, thank you very much. But Jackie had cited Pete's position as a rather popular socialite as well as Rose's insistence that they keep the wedding a small affair. A large reception was the compromise for those not invited to the wedding, and finally it was Pete who managed to get Rose to concede to her mother's demand. He'd not had a daughter for very long, but since she was the only one he had he planned on spending an exorbitant amount of money on her to make up for not being able to watch her grow up. Unable to deny him, Rose had given in and Jackie had set to planning the party of the millennium.

* * *

><p><em>"Your mother wasn't kidding when she said she'd covered all the bases," John gave a low whistle and looked around at the elaborately decorated ballroom. Rose nudged him with her elbow and gave him a cheeky grin.<em>

_"She's your mum now, too." John's relaxed features contorted in mock-horror, and Rose let out a laugh. Several heads turned their direction at the noise, and they were quickly set upon by well-wishers. They endured almost half an hour of handshakes, hugs, and congratulations before Jackie managed to shoo them off and steer the newlyweds over to the head table. Pete, who had stood in as best man when Ethan and Tony had nearly collapsed from exhaustion, stood up and tapped his glass with a spoon. The light clinking of the glass went unnoticed in the din, and Jake glanced sidelong at his boss before sticking two fingers in his mouth and letting out a shrill whistle. Silence descended then, and everyone scrambled to their seats as Jackie glared at Jake. He offered her an apologetic shrug, but Rose could see the laughter in his eyes as he cowered away from the Tyler matriarch._

_"Thank you, Jake," Pete said, earning chuckles from around the room. "Well, these two have never been known for their ability to stay in one place for very long, so we'll try to keep these speeches brief." More laughter, and he lifted his glass as he turned to John and Rose. "I cannot completely express how very lucky I have been these last few years. Not only have I been reunited with my lovely daughter, but I am gaining an absolutely brilliant son-in-law as well. Nowhere in the universe are there two people who are more right for each other. When they're together, you get the feeling that there isn't anything they can't do so long as they have each other. The love they have for one another is the stuff of fairytales, of legends, and I wish them years of happiness and prosperity. To Rose and John." The audience echoed him as they drank to the toast, and it was Jackie's turn._

_"When I first met him, I didn't like him." Everyone laughed but none harder than Rose and John, who knew how true that was. _

_"Bit of an understatement, that," John whispered, and Rose shushed him quietly as Jackie continued._

_"But over time he grew on me. He proved to me that he only ever wanted what was best for my daughter. What mother could ask for more than that? I've only ever wanted to very same thing, and over time it became clear just what - or rather who - that was. Every time I saw them together, I could see in her eyes just how happy he made her, and vice versa. And as long as that keeps up, I think I'll let him stick around." Laughter rang again, and Rose smiled at her mother through her tears. Jackie turned to look at them then, pouring all of her love into her final words. "I love you both so much. I have been so blessed to have such a wonderful daughter...and a son as well. Take care of each other. To eternal love." Another echo, another toast, and it was Monica's turn as maid of honor. _

_They sat through a few more speeches before Tony and Ethan stood up. They had prepared a song, but Ethan's shyness overwhelmed him and Tony picked up the slack easily, belting his own version of "Chapel of Love" off-key. When he was done the audience praised both of them, showering the boys with hugs and high fives so that when they returned to their seats both of them were grinning ear to ear._

_John very nearly jumped from his seat when the band started playing "In the Mood," and everyone cleared the floor as he led Rose by the hand to the center of the room. Everyone laughed and clapped as they danced their first dance all over again, and it took almost no time at all for others to join in. Pete grabbed Jackie and started leading her through the steps, and Rose smiled at the look of sheer joy on her mother's face. Song after song played, and Rose even managed to snag Ethan and Tony for a quick foxtrot around the room before they swanned off on some crazy adventure of their own making. Pete and Rose danced as John snared Jackie, and the four danced for a while before switching partners. _

_Finally, when the band was played out and the presents all opened, John and Rose were left alone at the head table. Jackie had started barking at the clean-up crew about saving certain things, and Pete had gone to find the manager to settle the bill. Their friends and family had congratulated them again then tossed confetti and rice before going home, and Ethan and Tony had passed out on a couch in the foyer not long after. Rose's own eyes were beginning to droop, and John wrapped his arm around her as she laid her head sleepily on his shoulder._

_"You ready to go, love?" he whispered, knowing their bags were already packed and sitting in the boot of their car. She nodded against him and he helped her stand up as Jackie came back with a satisfied look on her face._

"_We've got everything taken care of here. You two better get going or it'll be dark by the time you reach the bed and breakfast." John released Rose so she could hug Jackie, and he pretended to be very interested in his shoes as mother and daughter shared one last tearful goodbye. When she was done, John was surprised to find himself folded into the woman's arms._

"_You take care of her," she whispered, triggering a happy memory of Jackie imploring the very same thing of him so many years ago. Now, just as he had then, he smiled back at her and nodded._

"_Always," he promised, leaning forward to kiss Jackie on the forehead. "And thank you." Both of them knew he was talking about more than just her heartfelt speech earlier, or even all she had done for them to get this wedding planned. Jackie wiped her tears away and returned his kiss with one of her own._

"_Let her take care of you, too," she added quickly before shuffling away. "Love you!" Rose waved and echoed the sentiment for both of them, stifling her laughter at John's grimacing face._

"_Oh hush," she nudged him playfully, "you know you love her as much as I do." John wisely refrained from commenting, instead focusing on steering her out the door. They woke Ethan up long enough to say goodbye, and to promise to call him every day. Tony woke for his own goodbye, and when they'd gone back to sleep Rose leaned against John for support. Her footfalls were heavy as they left the building, and he guided her into the passenger seat with only a little difficulty. Before he shut the door, he knelt down beside her and kissed her sweetly._

"_You are my wife," he declared with a goofy grin on his face. She chuckled at his amusement and fiddled with the ring on her left hand._

"_That's generally how this works, yeah," she teased. He scoffed at her and looked down at his own golden band with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity._

"_Are you ready for our next adventure, Rose?" It was a question he'd often asked her on the TARDIS, usually just after they'd narrowly escaped the last one. And, as always, it was met with a tongue in teeth grin as she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes._

"_Absolutely."_


End file.
